TWO-LEGS 


CARL  EWALD 


TWO-LEGS 


TWO-LEGS 


BY 
CARL    EWALD 

AUTHOR  OF  "MY  LITTLE  BOY" 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  DANISH 

BY 
ALEXANDER  TEIXEIRA  DE  MATTOS 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW   YORK  :::::::   1906 


Copyright,  1906,  by  Charles  Scribner's  Sont 
Sole  Authorized  Translation 

Published,  September,  1906 


The  Trow  Press,  New  York 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I      THE    OLD    ANIMALS 1 

II  MRS.    TWO-LEGS    HAS    A    SON  ...  22 

in    BLOOD! 33 

IV      TIME     PASSES 51 

V  TWO-LEGS  ENLARGES  HIS   POSSESSIONS  64 

VI      TWO-LEGS    WANDERS 73 

VII      TWO-LEGS    SOWS 84 

VIII  TWO-LEGS    ENJOYS    LIFE    ....  99 

IX  THE    OLD    ANIMALS    TAKE    COUNSEL   .  106 

X      THE    LION 123 

XI  MANY    YEARS    AFTER  .  136 


TWO-LEGS 


THE   OLD   ANIMALS 

IT  was  once  upon  a  time,  many, 
many  years  ago. 

And  it  was  in  the  warm  lands,  where 
the  sun  shines  stronger  than  here 
and  the  rain  falls  closer  and  all 
animals  and  all  plants  thrive  better, 
because  the  winter  does  not  stunt 
their  growth. 

The  forest  was  full  of  life  and  noise. 

The  flies  buzzed,  the  sparrow  ate 
the  flies  and  the  hawk  ate  the  spar- 
row. The  bees  crept  into  the  flowers 
in  search  of  honey,  the  lion  roared 
1 


TWO-LEGS 

and  the  birds  sang,  the  brook  rippled 
and  the  grass  grew.  The  trees  stood 
and  rustled,  while  their  roots  sucked 
saps  from  the  earth.  The  flowers  were 
radiant  and  fragrant. 

Suddenly  it  became  wonderfully 
stiU. 

It  was  as  though  all  held  their 
breaths  at  once  and  listened  and 
stared.  The  rustling  of  the  trees 
ceased.  The  violet  woke  from  her 
dreams  and  looked  up  in  wonder.  The 
lion  raised  his  head  and  stood  with 
one  paw  uplifted.  The  stag  stopped 
grazing,  the  eagle  rested  high  in  the 
air  on  his  wings,  the  little  mouse  ran 
out  of  his  hole  and  pricked  up  his  ears. 

There  came  two  through  the  forest 
who  were  different  from  the  others, 
two  whom  no  one  had  ever  seen  be- 
fore. 

2 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

They  walked  erect.  Their  foreheads 
were  high,  their  eyes  steady.  They 
went  hand  in  hand  and  looked 
around  them  as  though  they  did  not 
know  where  they  were. 

"Who,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  are 
these?"  asked  the  lion. 

"They  are  animals,"  said  the  stag. 
"They  can  walk.  But  how  oddly 
they  do  it!  Why  don't  they  leap  on 
all  fours,  seeing  that  they  have  four 
legs?  Then  they  would  get  along 
much  faster." 

"Oh,"  said  the  snake,  "I  have  no 
legs  at  all;  and  it  seems  to  me  I  get 
along  pretty  fast." 

"I  don't  believe  they  are  animals," 
said  the  nightingale.  "They  have  no 
feathers  and  no  hair,  except  that  bit 
on  their  heads." 

"Scales  would  do  quite  as  well," 
3 


TWO-LEGS 

said  the  pike,  popping  his  head  out 
of  the  river. 

"Some  of  us  have  to  manage  with 
our  bare  skin,"  said  the  earth-worm, 
quietly. 

"They  have  no  tails,"  said  the 
mouse.  "Never  in  their  lives  have 
they  been  animals!" 

"I  have  no  tail,"  said  the  toad. 
"And  nobody  can  deny  that  I  am  an 
animal." 

"Look!"  said  the  lion.  "Just  look! 
One  of  them  is  taking  up  a  stone  in 
his  fore-paws:  I  couldn't  do  that." 

"But  I  could,"  said  the  orang- 
outang. "There's  nothing  in  that. 
For  the  rest,  I  can  satisfy  your  curi- 
osity. Those  two,  in  point  of  fact, 
are  animals.  They  are  husband  and 
wife,  their  name  is  Two-Legs  and 
they  are  distant  relations  of  my  own." 
4 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

"Oh,  really?"  said  the  lion.  "Then 
how  is  it  they  have  no  fur?" 

"I  daresay  they've  pawned  it,"  said 
the  orang-outang. 

"Why  don't  you  go  and  talk  to 
them?"  asked  the  lion. 

"I  don't  know  them,"  replied  the 
orang-outang.  "And  I  am  not  at  all 
anxious  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
them.  I  have  only  heard  of  them. 
You  must  know,  they  are  a  sort  of 
very  inferior,  second-rate  ape.  I  shall 
be  pleased  to  hand  them  an  orange 
now  and  again,  but  I  won't  under- 
take the  smallest  responsibility  for 
them." 

"They  look  very  nice,"  said  the  lion. 
"I  shouldn't  mind  trying  what  they 
taste  like." 

"Pray  do,  for  all  that  I  care,"  said 
the  orang-outang.  "They  will  never 
5 


TWO-LEGS 

be  a  credit  to  the  family  and,  sooner 
or  later,  they  will  come  to  a  bad  end." 

The  lion  went  towards  them,  as 
they  came,  but,  when  he  stood  before 
them,  he  suddenly  lost  courage.  He 
could  not  understand  this  himself, 
for  there  was  not  a  thing  else  in  the 
forest  that  he  feared.  But  the  two 
new  animals  had  such  strange  eyes 
and  walked  the  earth  so  fearlessly 
that  he  thought  they  must  possess 
some  mysterious  power  which  he 
could  not  perceive.  There  was  no- 
thing particular  about  their  teeth ;  and 
their  claws  were  not  worth  speaking 
of.  But  something  about  them  there 
must  be. 

And  so  he  hung  his  head  and  got 
out  of  their  way. 

"Why  didn't  you  eat  them?  "  asked 
the  lioness 

6 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

"I  was  not  hungry,"  he  answered. 

He  lay  down  to  rest  in  the  high 
grass  and  did  as  though  he  were  no 
longer  thinking  of  them.  The  other 
animals  did  the  same,  for  he  was 
their  chief.  But  none  of  them  meant 
it.  They  were  all  taken  up  with  the 
new  animals. 

Meanwhile,  Two-Legs  and  his  wife 
walked  on;  and  the  farther  they 
walked  the  more  they  wondered  at 
the  splendour  of  the  world.  They  had 
no  suspicion  of  the  attention  which 
they  attracted  and  they  did  not  see 
that  all  the  animals  were  stealthily 
following  in  their  tracks.  Wherever 
they  came,  the  trees  put  their  tops 
together  and  whispered,  the  birds 
flew  in  the  air  above  their  heads  and 
astonished  eyes  stared  at  them  from 
every  bush. 

7 


TWO-LEGS 

"We  will  live  here,"  said  Two-Legs 
and  pointed  to  a  wonderful  little 
meadow,  where  the  river  flowed  be- 
tween flowers  and  grass. 

"No,  here!"  cried  his  wife  and  ran 
into  the  adjoining  wood,  where  the 
trees  dispensed  a  deep  shade  and  the 
moss  was  thick  and  soft. 

"How  strange  their  voices  sound," 
said  the  nightingale.  "They  have 
more  notes  than  I." 

"If  they  were  not  so  big,  I  should 
advise  them  to  build  a  nest  beside 
me  in  the  rushes,"  said  the  reed- 
warbler. 

The  two  new  animals  walked  on 
and  constantly  found  a  place  which 
was  prettier  than  that  which  they 
had  last  seen;  and  they  could  not 
make  up  their  minds  to  stay.  Then 
they  met  the  dog,  who  was  limping 
s 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

badly,  as  he  had  cut  his  foot  on  a 
sharp  stone.  He  tried  to  run  away 
from  them,  but  could  not.  Mrs.  Two- 
Legs  took  hold  of  him  and  looked 
at  the  injured  foot. 

"I'll  help  you,  you  poor  fellow," 
she  said.  "Wait  a  minute.  I  hurt  my 
own  foot  the  other  day  and  healed  it 
with  leaves." 

The  dog  saw  that  she  meant  well 
by  him.  He  waited  patiently  while 
she  ran  into  the  copsewood  for 
leaves.  Two-Legs  patted  him  on  the 
back  and  talked  kindly  to  him.  Then 
she  came  back  with  the  leaves,  put 
them  on  his  foot  and  bound  a  tendril 
round  them. 

"Run  away,  now,"  she  said.  "To- 
morrow you'll  be  well  again." 

They  went  on,  but  the  dog  stood 
looking  after  them  and  wagging  his 
9 


TWO-LEGS 

tail.  The  other  animals  came  out  of 
the  bushes  and  copses. 

"You've  been  talking  to  the  stran- 
gers. What  did  they  say?  What  are 
they  like?"  they  all  asked  in  chorus. 

"They  are  better  than  the  other  ani- 
mals in  the  forest,"  replied  the  dog. 
"They  have  healed  my  foot  and 
patted  my  skin.  I  shall  never  forget 
it." 

"They  have  healed  the  dog's  foot. 
.  .  .  They  have  patted  the  dog's 
skin.  .  .  ." 

It  ran  from  mouth  to  mouth 
through  the  forest.  The  trees  whis- 
pered it  to  one  another,  the  flowers 
sighed  and  nodded,  the  lizards  ran 
round  with  the  story  and  the  nightin- 
gale set  it  to  music.  The  new  animals 
went  on  and  thought  no  more  of  the 
dog. 

10 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

At  last,  however,  they  were  so  tired 
that  they  sat  down.  They  stooped 
over  the  spring  and  drank  and 
laughed  at  their  own  image  in  the 
water.  They  plucked  juicy  fruits 
from  the  trees  and  ate  them.  When 
the  sun  went  down,  they  lay  down  to 
rest  in  the  grass  and  went  to  sleep 
with  their  arms  about  each  other's 
neck.  A  little  way  off,  the  dog,  who 
had  followed  in  their  footsteps,  lay 
with  his  head  on  his  paws,  watching 
them. 

The  round  full  moon  shone  straight 
down  upon  them.  She  also  shone  in 
the  big  face  of  the  ox,  who  stood 
looking  at  them. 

"Boo!"  said  the  ox. 

"Bo!"  said  the  moon.  "What  are 
you  staring  at?" 

"I'm  looking  at  those  two  who  are 
11 


TWO-LEGS 

lying  sleeping  there,"  said  the  ox. 
"Do  you  know  them?" 

"I  believe  something  of  the  kind 
used  to  crawl  about  my  surface  years 
and  years  ago,"  replied  the  moon. 
"But  I'm  not  sure.  My  memory  has 
become  very  bad  in  the  last  hundred 
thousand  years  or  so.  It  is  quite  as 
much  as  I  can  do  to  concentrate 
my  thoughts  upon  my  celestial 
course." 

"Yes,  thinking  is  not  my  strong 
point  either,"  said  the  ox.  "But  I  am 
frightened." 

"Of  those  two  over  there?"  asked 
the  moon. 

"I  don't  know  why,"  said  the  ox, 
"but  I  can't  bear  them." 

"Then  trample  them  to  death!" 
cried  the  moon. 

"I  dare  not,"  said  the  ox.  "Not  by 
12 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

myself.  But  perhaps  I  can  persuade 
some  one  to  help  me." 

"That's  your  look-out,"  said  the 
moon.  "It's  all  one  to  me." 

And  she  sailed  on.  But  the  ox  stood 
and  chewed  the  cud  and  thought  and 
got  no  further. 

"Are  you  asleep?"  asked  the  sheep, 
sticking  out  her  long  face  beside  the 
ox. 

And  suddenly  the  whole  meadow 
came  to  life. 

All  the  animals  were  there  who  had 
followed  the  two  on  their  walk. 
There  were  both  those  who  sleep  by 
day  and  hunt  at  night  and  those  who 
do  their  work  while  the  sun  shines. 
None  of  them  was  now  thinking  of 
working  or  resting.  None  thought  of 
hurting  the  others.  The  lion  and  the 
stag,  the  wolf  and  the  sheep,  the  cat 
13 


TWO-LEGS 

and  the  mouse  and  the  horse  and  the 
ox  and  many  others  stood  side  by 
side  on  the  grass.  The  eagle  sat  in  a 
tree-top,  surrounded  by  all  the  little 
birds  of  the  forest.  The  orang-outang 
sat  on  one  of  the  bottom  branches  eat- 
ing an  orange.  The  hen  stood  on  a 
mound  beside  the  fox,  the  duck  and 
the  goose  lay  in  the  brook  and  stuck 
out  their  necks. 

"Now  that  we  are  all  here  together, 
let  us  discuss  the  matter,"  said  the 
lion. 

"Have  you  had  enough  to  eat?" 
asked  the  ox. 

"Quite,"  answered  the  lion.  "To- 
night we  shall  keep  the  peace  and  be 
friends." 

"Then  I  move  that  we  forthwith 
and  without  more  ado  kill  those  two 
strange  animals,"  said  the  ox. 

14 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

"What  in  the  wide  world  is  the  mat- 
ter with  you?"  asked  the  lion.  "Gen- 
erally you're  such  a  peaceful  fellow, 
grazing,  attending  to  your  business 
and  not  hurting  a  living  thing.  What 
makes  you  so  bloodthirsty  all  of  a 
sudden?" 

"I  can't  account  for  it,"  said  the 
ox.  "But  I  have  a  decided  conviction 
that  we  ought  to  kill  them  with  the 
least  possible  delay.  They  bring  mis- 
fortune. They  are  evil.  If  you  don't 
follow  my  advice,  rely  upon  it,  one 
day  you  will  all  regret  it." 

"I  agree  with  the  ox,"  cried  the 
horse.  "Bite  them  to  death!  Kick 
them  to  pieces!  And  the  sooner  the 
better!" 

"Kill  them,  kill  them!"  cried  the 
sheep,  the  goat  and  the  stag,  with  one 
voice. 

15 


TWO-LEGS 

'Yes,  do,  do!"  screamed  the  duck, 
the  goose  and  the  hen. 

"I  have  never  heard  anything  like 
this  in  my  life,"  said  the  lion,  look- 
ing round  in  surprise  at  the  crowd. 
"It's  just  the  most  peaceable  and 
cowardly  animals  in  the  forest  that 
want  to  take  the  strangers'  lives. 
What  have  they  done  to  you?  What 
are  you  afraid  of?" 

"I  can't  tell  you  any  more  than  the 
ox  can,"  said  the  horse.  "But  I  feel 
that  they  are  dangerous.  I  have  such 
pains  in  my  loins  and  legs." 

"When  I  think  of  those  two,  I  feel 
as  if  I  were  being  skinned,"  said  the 
ox.  "I  feel  teeth  biting  into  my  flesh." 

"I  feel  something  pulling  at  my 
udders,"  said  the  cow. 

"I  feel  cold,  as  if  all  my  wool  were 
shorn  off,"  said  the  sheep. 

16 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

"I  have  a  feeling  as  if  I  were  being 
roasted  before  the  fire  and  eaten," 
said  the  goose. 

"So  have  I!  So  have  II"  screamed 
the  duck  and  the  hen. 

"This  is  most  remarkable,"  said  the 
lion.  "I  have  never  heard  anything 
like  it  and  I  can't  understand  your 
feelings.  What  can  these  strangers 
do  to  you?  They  go  about  naked 
among  us,  eat  an  apple  and  an  or- 
ange and  don't  do  the  least  harm. 
They  go  on  two  poor  legs,  whereas 
you  have  four,  so  that  you  can  run 
away  from  them  anyhow.  You  have 
horns  and  claws  and  teeth:  what  are 
you  afraid  of?" 

"You'll  be  sorry  one  day,"  said  the 
ox.  "The  new  animals  will  be  the  ruin 
of  us  all.  The  danger  threatens  you 
as  well  as  the  rest  of  us." 

17 


TWO-LEGS 

"I  see  no  danger  and  know  no 
fear,"  said  the  lion,  proudly.  "But  is 
there  really  not  one  of  you  to  take  the 
strangers'  part?" 

"If  they  did  not  belong  to  my  fam- 
ily, I  would  do  so  gladly,"  said  the 
orang-outang.  "But  it  looks  bad  to 
recommend  one's  own  relations.  Let 
them  go  their  way  and  starve.  They 
are  quite  harmless." 

"Then  I  at  least  will  say  a  good 
word  for  them,"  said  the  dog.  "My 
foot  is  almost  well  again  and  I  be- 
lieve that  they  are  cleverer  than  all 
the  rest  of  you  put  together.  I  shall 
never  forget  what  they  did  for  me." 

"That's  right,  cousin,"  said  the  lion. 
"You're  a  fine  fellow  and  one  can 
see  that  you  come  of  a  good  stock. 
I  don't  believe  that  these  Two-Legs 
are  dangerous  and  I  have  no  inten- 

18 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

tion  of  doing  them  any  harm.  To  be 
sure,  if  I  meet  them  one  day  when 
I  am  hungry,  I  shall  eat  them. 
That's  a  different  thing.  Hunger 
knows  no  law.  But  to-night  I  have 
had  enough  to  eat  and  I  am  going 
home  to  bed.  Good-night,  all  of  you!" 

Then  none  of  the  animals  said  an- 
other word.  They  went  away  as 
noiselessly  as  they  had  come.  The 
night  came  to  an  end  and  the  day 
broke  in  the  east. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  ox  and  the  horse 
and  the  sheep  and  the  goat  came  gal- 
loping over  the  meadow.  Behind 
them,  as  fast  as  they  could,  came  the 
goose  and  the  duck  and  the  hen.  The 
ox  was  at  their  head  and  rushed  with 
lowered  horns  to  the  place  where  the 
strangers  lay  sleeping. 

But  then  the  dog  sprang  up  and 

19 


TWO-LEGS 

barked  like  mad.  The  two  new  ani- 
mals woke  and  leapt  to  their  feet. 
And,  when  they  stood  there,  tall  and 
slender,  with  their  white  limbs  and 
their  steady  eyes,  and  the  sun  shone 
down  upon  them,  the  old  animals 
were  seized  with  terror  and  ran  back 
the  way  they  came. 

"Thank  you,  friend,"  said  Two- 
Legs  and  stroked  the  dog. 

Mrs.  Two-Legs  looked  to  his  bad 
foot  and  spoke  to  him  in  her  pretty 
voice.  He  licked  their  hands  with  de- 
light. 

Then  the  new  animals  bathed  in  the 
river.  And  then  Two-Legs  climbed 
up  an  apple-tree  to  get  some  break- 
fast for  himself  and  his  wife. 

In  the  tree  sat  the  orang-outang 
gnawing  at  an  apple. 

"Get  out  of  that!"  said  Two-Legs, 
20 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS 

in  a  threatening  voice.  "This  is  my 
tree  and  don't  you  forget  it.  Don't 
you  dare  to  touch  a  single  apple  1" 

"Goodness  gracious  me!"  said  the 
orang-outang.  "What  a  tone  to  take 
up!  And  I  who  defended  you  last 
night,  when  all  the  other  animals 
wanted  to  kill  you !" 

"Get  out,  you  disgusting  ape!" 
said  Two-Legs. 

He  broke  a  branch  off  the  tree  and 
gave  the  orang-outang  a  couple  of 
such  lusty  cracks  with  it  that  he  ran 
off  crying  into  the  forest. 


21 


II 

MRS.   TWO-LEGS   HAS  A   SON 

THE  days  passed. 

Things  were  busy  in  the  forest,  both 
above  and  below.  All  the  wives  had 
eggs  or  young  and  all  the  husbands 
had  their  work  cut  out  to  provide 
food  for  their  families.  Everyone  at- 
tended to  his  business  and  took  no 
heed  of  his  neighbour,  except  when 
he  wanted  to  eat  him. 

The  new  animals  had  taken  up  their 
abode  on  an  island  in  the  river. 

This  was  because  the  lion  had  met 
them  one  day  on  the  borders  of  the 
copsewood.  He  had  got  out  of  their 
way,  as  on  the  first  occasion;  but  he 

22 


MRS.  TWO  LEGS  HAS  A  SON 

had  given  them  such  a  look  that  Mrs. 
Two-Legs  trembled  with  fright. 

"He'll  eat  us  one  day,"  she  said.  "I 
dare  not  sleep  in  the  meadow  again." 

Then  Two-Legs  discovered  the  lit- 
tle island  and  built  a  hut  on  it  of 
branches  and  grass.  Every  day,  they 
waded  through  the  river  and  went  to 
gather  fruit  in  the  forest.  At  night, 
they  slept  in  their  hut.  The  other  ani- 
mals had  gradually  all  got  used  to 
them  and  spoke  of  them  but  seldom. 
Only  the  dog  never  forgot  to  run 
down  to  the  river  every  morning  to 
look  across  at  the  island  and  bark 
"  Good-morning!  "  to  them.  And  the 
orang-outang  slandered  them  wher- 
ever he  went. 

"Who  minds  about  that?"  asked  the 
stag.  "They're  relations;  and  we  all 
know  what  that  means." 

23 


TWO-LEGS 

One  night,  a  child  was  born  to  the 
new  animals. 

"The  Two-Legs  have  had  a  young 
one,"  said  the  sparrow,  who  went 
everywhere  and  always  had  some 
news  to  tell. 

"Really!  I  must  go  quick  and  have 
a  look  at  the  baby,"  said  Mrs.  Night- 
ingale. "My  eggs  will  keep  warm  for 
five  little  minutes." 

"Mrs.  Fox  has  gone  there  herself, 
so  I  can  leave  my  goslings  alone  for 
a  moment,"  said  the  goose. 

Down  by  the  river  were  a  vast  num- 
ber of  visitors  and  enquirers. 

All  the  wives  had  run  away  from 
hearth  and  home  to  have  a  look  at  the 
Two-Legs.  Mrs.  Two-Legs  was  sit- 
ting on  the  grass  in  front  of  the  hut 
with  her  child  at  her  breast.  Two- 
Legs  sat  beside  her,  eating  an  orange. 

24 


MRS.  TWO-LEGS  HAS  A  SON 

"He's  just  the  same  as  other  hus- 
bands," observed  Mrs.  Stag. 

"There  are  some  who  are  worse," 
said  Mrs.  Mole.  "My  husband  eats 
the  children,  if  I  don't  look  after 
them." 

"Husbands  are  mere  rubbish,"  said 
Mrs.  Spider.  "I  ate  mine,  as  soon  as 
I  had  laid  my  eggs." 

"Do  spare  us  those  gruesome  sto- 
ries," said  Mrs.  Nightingale.  "Surely 
he  might  sing  to  her  a  little.  That's 
what  my  husband  does." 

"Oh,  but  look  at  the  baby!  Isn't  he 
sweet?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Reed-War- 
bler. 

"Poor  little  thing!"  said  Mrs.  Stag. 
"He  can't  even  stand  on  his  legs  and 
the  sparrow  was  saying  that  he  was 
born  at  eleven  o'clock  last  night. 
When  my  fawn  was  an  hour  old,  he 

25 


TWO-LEGS 

was  gambolling  merrily  over  the 
meadow." 

"There's  no  sense  in  carrying  a  poor 
little  mite  like  that  in  one's  arms," 
said  Mrs.  Kangaroo.  "If  he  were 
mine,  he  should  stay  snugly  in  my 
pouch  until  he  knew  how  to  behave 
himself.  But  probably  the  poor  wo- 
man hasn't  even  got  a  pouch." 

"At  least  he  can  see!"  said  Mrs. 
Fox.  "My  children  are  blind  for  quite 
nine  days." 

"Don't  forget  that  they  are  poor 
people,"  said  the  orang-outang. 
"It's  not  so  easy,  when  poor  people 
have  children.  The  police  ought  to 
forbid  it." 

"Stuff!"  said  Mrs.  Nightingale. 
"It's  a  dear  little  baby,  as  any  mother 
can  see.  Hi!  Mrs.  Two-Legs!  You 
must  be  sure  to  feed  him  on  mag- 

26 


MRS.  TWO-LEGS  HAS  A  SON 

gots.  Then  he'll  grow  up  nice  and 
fat." 

"And,  for  goodness'  sake,  sit  on 
him  at  night!"  cried  Mrs.  Reed- 
Warbler.  "Else  he'll  catch  cold." 

"Don't  mind  what  any  of  them 
say!"  cried  Mrs.  Stag.  "You  stick  to 
the  milk!  That's  good  enough.  And 
put  him  down  on  the  grass  and  let 
him  run  about.  You  had  much  better 
make  him  used  to  it  from  the  start." 

Mrs.  Two-Legs  looked  at  her  baby 
and  did  not  listen  to  what  they  said. 
He  had  now  finished  drinking  and 
began  to  crow  and  to  kick  about  with 
his  little  legs  and  arms.  Two-Legs 
took  him  and  lifted  him  high  in  the 
air  and  laughed  at  him. 

"Isn't  he  sweet?"  said  Mrs.  Reed- 
Warbler. 

"He's  all  that,"  said  Mrs.  Stag. 
27 


TWO-LEGS 

"But  his  parents  are  very  self-suffi- 
cient. They  won't  look  at  any  one 
else."  And  she  called  across  to  the 
island.  "It's  all  right,  Mrs.  Two- 
Legs!  You  go  or  with  the  milk. 
And,  if  you  run  short,  come  to  me. 
My  only  fawn  died  the  other  day,  so 
I  have  plenty!" 

Then  they  all  hurried  home  again, 
lest  their  husbands  should  come  and 
find  out  that  they  had  been  gossip- 
ing. 

"I  am  going  to  fetch  a  couple  of 
oranges  or  something  of  the  sort," 
said  Two-Legs.  "It  may  be  some 
time  before  I'm  back,  for  we  have 
eaten  everything  on  the  trees  round 
about  here." 

"Be  as  quick  as  you  can,"  replied 
his  wife.  "You  know  that  I  don't  like 
being  alone  at  this  time." 

28 


MRS.  TWO-LEGS  HAS  A  SON 

He  waded  through  the  river  and 
went  into  the  forest.  After  a  long 
while,  he  came  back,  having  found 
only  a  couple  of  poor  little  fruits. 
He  was  annoyed  at  this  and  so  was 
his  wife,  for  she  was  hungry.  Then 
they  sat  and  discussed  whether  they 
could  not  find  something  else  that 
was  fit  to  eat  in  the  neighbourhood. 
For,  once  the  evening  had  come,  they 
did  not  dare  leave  the  island. 

"Last  evening,"  said  Two-Legs,  "I 
saw  the  otter  catch  a  big  fish  in  the 
river  here  and  eat  him.  Perhaps  we 
could  do  the  same." 

"Do  try,"  said  Mrs.  Two-Legs. 
"One  thing  is  certain,  I  must  have 
some  food." 

He  went  out  into  the  river  and  with 
his  hands  caught  a  great  pike,  who 
was  swimming  just  past  him,  not 

29 


TWO-LEGS 

dreaming  of  danger.  He  had  so  often 
seen  Two-Legs  wading  through  the 
river  and  Two-Legs  had  never  looked 
at  him.  But  now  Two-Legs  flung 
him  on  the  island  and  there  lay  the 
pike  gaping  and  gasping  for  breath 
and  yelling  with  might  and  main: 

"Hi!  .  .  .  Ho!  .  .  .  Murder!  .  .  . 
Help!" 

But  he  was  soon  dead.  Two-Legs 
and  his  wife  ate  him  and  found  him 
excellent. 

"Get  me  another  fish  like  that  to- 
morrow, will  you?"  said  Mrs.  Two- 
Legs.  "Frankly  speaking,  I  was  get- 
ting rather  tired  of  those  apples." 

Next  day,  Two-Legs  went  into  the 
river  again.  He  was  not  long  before 
he  saw  another  fine  fish,  but,  just  as 
he  wanted  to  catch  it,  the  otter 
snapped  it  away  in  front  of  his  nose. 

30 


MRS.  TWO-LEGS  HAS  A  SON 

"Get  out  of  my  river,  you  thief!" 
shouted  Two-Legs  and  struck  at  him. 

"Whom  are  you  calling  thief?"  said 
the  otter,  snarling  and  showing  his 
white  teeth.  "I  rather  thought  the 
river  was  mine.  I  was  living  here 
long  before  you  came." 

Two-Legs  leapt  on  shore  and 
picked  up  some  big  stones  and  flung 
them  at  the  otter.  One  of  them  caught 
him  on  the  snout  and  made  it  bleed. 
Then  he  hid  in  his  hole  and  Two- 
Legs  caught  another  fish  and 
took  it  home  to  his  wife.  But,  when 
the  otter  came  out  again  at  night,  the 
orang-outang  was  sitting  there  and 
nodding  to  him: 

"I  have  seen  all,"  said  the  orang- 
outang. "I  was  sitting  in  the  tree 
over  there  and  saw  him  throw  the 
stone  at  you.  The  water  turned  quite 

31 


TWO-LEGS 

red  with  your  blood.  He  ill-treated 
me  once  too.  He  said  the  apples 
were  his  and  drove  me  out  of  the  tree 
with  a  stick.  And  to  think  that  we 
are  relations!" 

"If  I  could  only  get  at  him!"  said 
the  otter.  "But  I  am  too  small." 

"All  in  good  time,"  answered  the 
orang-outang.  "We  shall  be  even 
with  him  yet." 


Ill 

BLOOD ! 

THE  sun  was  blazing  and  the  ground 
was  shockingly  dry. 

The  trees  and  bushes  hung  their 
leaves  and  the  grass  was  parched  and 
yellow,  so  that  the  ox  could  hardly 
find  a  green  tuft  to  eat.  The  water  in 
the  river  was  so  low  that  the  fish 
swam  along  the  bottom  and  the  brook 
had  stopped  running.  The  animals 
lay  in  the  shadow  and  gasped  for 
breath.  In  many  places,  both  flowers 
and  animals  had  died.  Two-Legs  and 
his  wife  and  child  were  not  much  bet- 
ter off. 

The  only  one  who  was  really  happy 

S3 


TWO-LEGS 

was  the  snake.  He  stretched  himself 
in  the  sun  and  thought  life  delight- 
ful. 

"Shine  away,  little  sun,"  he  said. 
"The  hotter  the  better.  I  am  only 
just  beginning  to  feel  alive." 

But  one  day  the  rain  came. 

It  was  not  the  sort  of  rain  against 
which  one  can  put  up  an  umbrella  or 
take  shelter  in  a  doorway  and  wait 
until  it  stops.  It  poured  down  from 
the  clouds  so  that  one  could  not  see 
one's  hand  before  one's  face  and  it 
rained  day  after  day,  as  though  it 
would  never  end.  It  rattled  and  pat- 
tered and  clattered  on  the  dry  leaves 
so  that  one  could  not  hear  a  sound. 
The  river  flowed  again  and  the  brook 
woke  from  its  trance  and  sang  as  it 
had  never  sung  before.  The  whole 
earth  was  like  a  thirsty  mouth  that 

34 


BLOOD! 

drank  and  drank  and  could  never 
quench  its  thirst. 

And  a  great  gladness  reigned  on 
every  hand. 

The  trees  stretched  themselves  and 
spread  out  and  sent  forth  new  shoots 
and  the  grass  sprang  fresh  and  green 
from  the  ground.  The  flowers  blos- 
somed anew,  the  frogs  croaked  so  that 
they  were  heard  all  over  the  forest 
and  the  fish  napped  merrily  with  their 
tails.  Two-Legs  and  his  family  sat  in 
front  of  their  leafy  hut  and  rejoiced 
with  the  rest. 

But  it  went  on  raining. 

The  river  overflowed  its  banks  and 
Two-Legs  feared  lest  his  island 
should  go  under  in  the  waves.  The 
water  soaked  through  the  roof  of  the 
hut  until  there  was  not  a  dry  spot  in- 
side. 

35 


TWO-LEGS 

"The  baby  is  cold,"  said  Mrs.  Two- 
Legs. 

They  decided  to  leave  the  island 
and  crossed  the  river  with  great  diffi- 
culty, for  it  was  now  very  deep.  They 
waded  through  the  damp  meadow 
and  carried  the  child  by  turns.  Then 
they  found  a  tree  which  was  so  con- 
trived that  they  could  live  in  it.  They 
twisted  the  branches  together  and 
built  a  roof  and  stopped  up  the 
holes  as  best  they  could  with  grass 
and  moss;  and  this  was  their  new 
house. 

"The  water  can't  reach  us  here," 
said  Two-Legs. 

"But  it's  raining  through  the  roof," 
said  his  wife.  "The  baby  is  cold  and 
so  am  I." 

"It's  just  as  I  always  said,"  ob- 
served the  orang-outang.  "They  have 

36 


BLOOD! 

no  hide  or  fur  or  anything  and  they'll 
come  to  a  terrible  end." 

"You  ought  to  have  fed  your  little 
one  on  maggots,  Mrs.  Two-Legs," 
said  Mrs.  Nightingale.  "Then  he 
would  have  thrived  better.  My  young 
ones  already  are  almost  as  big  as  my- 
self." 

"You  ought  to  have  put  him  in  the 
meadow  and  let  him  jump  about,  as 
I  advised  you,"  said  Mrs.  Stag. 
"Then  he  would  have  been  able  to 
shift  for  himself  by  now." 

"You  should  sit  on  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Reed-Warbler.  "That's  how  I  keep 
my  young  ones  warm." 

Mrs.  Two-Legs  said  nothing,  but 
looked  at  her  boy,  who  was  shivering 
with  cold. 

"It's  really  a  horribly  spoilt  child," 
said  Mrs.  Hedgehog.  "Of  course, 

37 


TWO-LEGS 

what  must  be  must  be ;  and,  once  you 
have  brought  children  into  the  world, 
you  have  to  give  them  a  decent  bring- 
ing-up.  But  a  great  big  thumping 
lout  like  that,  of  six  months  old, 
still  at  his  mother's  breast:  fie,  for 
shame!  What  he  wants  is  a  good 
beating  and  then  turn  him  loose  into 
the  world!" 

"There's  nothing  to  be  done  with 
people  like  that,"  said  Mrs.  Stag. 
"They  won't  use  their  common  sense ; 
and,  as  they  have  made  their  bed, 
they  must  lie  in  it." 

Then  they  went  away. 

Mrs.  Two-Legs  sat  in  the  tree  and 
the  rain  poured  down  and  the  baby 
cried  with  cold. 

"Look  at  that  silly  sheep  in  the 
meadow,"  said  Mrs.  Two  -  Legs. 
"She's  warm  and  comfortable  in  her 

38 


BLOOD! 

thick  fleece,  while  my  poor  dear  little 
boy  lies  here  shivering." 

Two-Legs  heard  what  she  said,  but 
made  no  reply.  He  sat  silent  for  a 
while  and  thought  over  things.  Then 
he  climbed  down  from  the  tree  and 
sat  on  the  ground  a  little  and  thought 
again.  The  rain  splashed  and  clat- 
tered. Up  in  the  tree,  the  little  baby 
cried  with  cold.  Down  in  the  meadow, 
the  sheep  moved  about  and  grazed. 

Then  Two-Legs  rose  and  went  up 
to  the  sheep.  On  his  way,  he  took  a 
sharp  stone  and  hid  it  in  his  hand.  He 
went  very  slowly  and  looked  to  one 
side,  so  as  not  to  frighten  the  sheep. 
Then  suddenly,  with  a  bound,  he 
caught  hold  of  her: 

"Baa!  Baa!  Murder!  Help!  I'm 
dying!"  cried  the  sheep. 

Two-Legs  struck  her  on  the  fore- 

39 


TWO-LEGS 

head  with  the  stone  and  she  fell  to  the 
ground.  Then  he  strangled  her  with 
his  hands,  caught  her  by  the  fleece 
and  dragged  her  to  the  tree  where  he 
had  made  his  home. 

He  cut  a  hole  in  her  hide  with  the 
sharp  stone  and  began  to  pull  it  off 
with  his  finger-nails.  His  wife  came 
down  and  helped  him.  They  used 
their  teeth  also,  to  finish  the  work 
more  quickly,  and,  presently,  they 
stopped  and  looked  at  each  other 
with  beaming  eyes: 

"How  delicious!"  he  said. 

"Wonderful!"  said  she.  "Let  us 
hurry  now  and  give  the  boy  the  fleece. 
Then  we  will  go  on  eating." 

Two-Legs  drank  the  blood  of  the 
sheep  and  bit  into  the  meat. 

"I  feel  stronger  than  I  ever  did  be- 
fore," he  said.  "Let  the  lion  come 
40 


BLOOD! 

now,  then  he'll  have  me  to  deal 
with." 

They  wrapped  the  fleece  round  the 
child,  who  went  comfortably  to  sleep 
at  once.  Then  they  dragged  up  the 
rest  of  the  sheep  into  their  house  in 
the  tree  and  sat  down  to  eat.  Every 
bite  they  took  made  them  feel  braver 
and  stronger.  They  gave  no  more 
thought  to  cold  or  rain,  but  sat  and 
talked  of  the  future  as  they  had 
never  talked  before. 

"I  should  like  to  have  a  sheepskin 
like  that  for  myself,"  said  she. 

"So  you  shall,"  said  he,  gnawing  a 
bone.  "Unless  we  find  another  animal 
that  has  a  still  softer  and  warmer 
skin.  I  want  a  fur  too.  ...  I  say, 
we  might  cover  the  roof  with  sheep- 
skins; that  would  keep  out  the  rain. 
I  will  go  out  to-morrow  and  find 
41 


TWO-LEGS 

some  more  sheep  and  kill  them  and 
bring  them  home." 

"Then  we'll  eat  them,"  said  Mrs. 
Two-Legs. 

"I  should  think  so!"  said  he.  "We'll 
eat  meat  every  day.  What  a  good 
thing  that  I  thought  of  it,  for  the  fish 
in  the  river  were  already  growing 
afraid  of  me!" 

"Mind  you  don't  meet  with  an  ac- 
cident," said  she. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said.  "I'll  go 
down  to  the  river  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning  and  pick  out  some  sharp 
stones,  in  case  I  should  lose  the  one  I 
have.  And,  look  here,  I'll  tell  you 
what:  I'll  fasten  one  of  those  sharp 
stones  to  the  end  of  a  stick,  with  a 
shoot  of  some  kind  or  other;  a  long 
stick,  do  you  see?  Then  I  need  not 
go  up  to  the  sheep  to  hit  them.  I 

42 


BLOOD! 

can  throw  the  stone.  For,  of  course, 
they  will  be  afraid  of  me  as  soon  as 
they  hear  that  I  have  killed  one  of 
them.  .  .  ." 

While  they  were  talking  like  this, 
all  the  animals  of  the  forest  had 
gathered  in  the  meadow,  just  as  on 
the  first  night  when  the  new  animals 
arrived. 

"Two-Legs  has  killed  the  sheep!" 
cried  the  sparrow  and  hurried  on  with 
her  news,  drenched  and  rumpled  as 
she  was  with  the  rain. 

"Two-Legs  has  murdered  the  sheep 
and  the  ox  and  the  goat!"  screamed 
the  crow  and  flapped  her  wet  wings. 

"Softly!"  said  the  ox.  "I'm  alive 
still,  thank  goodness,  though  I'm 
quite  prepared  for  the  worst." 

"Two-Legs  has  killed  all  the  ani- 
mals in  the  forest  .  .  .  he's  sitting 

43 


TWO-LEGS 

in  the  meadow  eating  the  lion,"  whis- 
pered the  reeds  to  one  another. 

Then  all  the  animals  rushed  down  to 
the  meadow  to  hear  the  exact  state  of 
affairs.  The  lion  stood  in  their  midst, 
with  his  head  proudly  raised. 

"What's  all  this  noise  about?"  he 
asked. 

"May  I  speak?"  said  the  orang- 
outang, holding  up  one  finger.  "I 
was  sitting  in  the  palm-tree  over 
there  and  saw  the  whole  thing.  It  was 
terrible." 

"What  a  mean  fellow  you  are!"  said 
the  lion.  "You're  giving  evidence 
against  your  own  relations." 

"Very  distant,"  replied  the  orang- 
outang. "Exceedingly  distant.  I  will 
remind  you  that  I  expressly  refused 
to  take  any  responsibility  for  these 
Two-Legs,  who  only  bring  disgrace 

44 


BLOOD! 

upon  the  family.  Well,  I  was  sitting 
in  the  tree  and  saw  him  come  run- 
ning up,  fling  himself  on  the  sheep 
and  strangle  her.  Then  he  dragged 
the  poor  beast  to  the  tree  in  which  he 
is  living.  I  crept  up  behind  him  and 
saw  him  skin  her.  The  woman  helped 
him  and  then  they  climbed  up  the 
tree  and  feasted." 

"Is  that  all?"  asked  the  lion.  "I've 
eaten  plenty  of  sheep  in  my  time, 
though  I  prefer  deer  on  the  whole. 
Why  shouldn't  Two-Legs  help  him- 
self to  a  bit  of  meat  if  he  likes?" 

"If  I  may  speak,  I  should  like  to 
remind  you  of  what  I  said  when  we 
last  met,"  said  the  ox.  "It's  easy  for 
you  to  talk  like  that,  for  Two-Legs 
can't  do  you  any  harm.  It's  we  others 
that  he  eats.  Still,  you  had  better 
look  out.  He  may  become  a  danger- 

45 


TWO-LEGS 

ous  competitor.  Supposing  he  gets  a 
large  family  of  children  and  they  all 
take  to  eating  mutton?" 

"Then  there's  always  beef  left!" 
said  the  lion  and  laughed  and  showed 
his  terrible  teeth. 

"Just  so,"  said  the  ox  and  cautious- 
ly took  a  step  backward.  "The  oxen 
will  get  their  turn,  now  that  he's 
tasted  blood.  He  looks  awfully 
greedy.  And  I  feel  as  if  he  had  eaten 
me  already." 

"Humph!"  said  the  lion.  "There 
may  be  something  in  that.  I  don't 
like  beating  about  the  bush.  Let  us 
go  and  have  a  word  or  two  with  the 
fellow." 

He  moved  on  and  the  orang-outang 
skipped  along  eagerly  in  front  of 
him. 

"This  way,  this  way!"  he  said. 

46 


BLOOD! 

The  lion  stood  under  the  tree  where 
Two-Legs  had  made  his  home.  All 
the  other  animals  of  the  forest  had 
followed  him  and  stood  listening  and 
staring. 

"Two-Legs!"  roared  the  lion  with 
his  mighty  voice. 

It  sounded  like  thunder  and  they  all 
started  with  fear.  The  lion  lashed 
his  tail  and  looked  up  at  the  tree. 
Not  a  sound  came  from  it.  He 
called  out  again,  but  there  was  no 
answer. 

"The  impudent  beggars!"  said  the 
orang-outang. 

"Perhaps  they  are  dead,"  said  the 
nightingale.  "Perhaps  they  have 
over  -  eaten  themselves  with  the 
sheep." 

"You  don't  die  of  eating  too  much, 
but  of  eating  too  little,"  said  the  pig, 

47 


TWO-LEGS 

who  kept  on  rooting  in  the  ground 
with  his  snout,  in  search  of  something 
for  himself  to  eat. 

Then  the  lion  roared  for  the  third 
time ;  and  the  noise  was  so  loud  that  a 
tiny  little  finch  tumbled  off  her  twig 
right  into  the  jaws  of  the  snake,  who 
swallowed  her  before  any  one  had 
uttered  a  sound ;  and  nobody  ever  got 
wind  of  the  story. 

And  now  Two-Legs  appeared  at 
the  top  of  the  tree. 

He  had  been  fast  asleep  after  the 
hearty  meal  which  he  had  enjoyed; 
and  he  was  furious  at  being  roused. 
His  hair  hung  about  his  face  in  dis- 
order and  his  eyes  were  bloodshot 
and  his  mouth  covered  with  foam. 

"Who  dares  disturb  my  sleep?"  he 
shouted. 

"I  do:  the  lion." 

48 


BLOOD! 

"The  lion,  the  king  of  beasts,"  they 
all  cried,  respectfully,  with  one  voice. 

"I  am  king  in  my  own  house,"  said 
Two -Legs.  ''Be  off,  I  want  to 
sleep." 

"He  is  defying  the  lion.  .  .  .  He 
is  mad.  ...  I  won't  give  a  penny 
for  his  life!"  cried  the  animals. 

But  Two-Legs  took  the  thigh-bone 
of  the  sheep,  aimed  it  and  flung  it 
with  all  his  might  at  the  lion.  It  hit 
the  king  of  beasts  in  the  middle  of  the 
forehead.  He  uttered  a  frightful 
roar.  All  the  animals  rushed  terrified 
across  the  meadow.  The  lion  ran  in 
their  midst,  constantly  roaring,  so 
that  it  echoed  all  over  the  forest. 

But  Two-Legs  lay  down  quietly  to 
sleep  and  slept  until  broad  daylight. 

When  he  woke  and  had  climbed 
down  the  tree,  the  dog  lay  gnawing 

49 


TWO-LEGS 

the  bone  which  Two-Legs  had  flung 
at  the  lion.  The  dog  wagged  his  tail ; 
Two-Legs  stroked  him  and  gave  him 
another  bone. 

"Will  you  be  my  servant  and 
friend?"  asked  Two-Legs. 

"Gladly,"  said  the  dog.  "You  have 
been  kinder  to  me  than  the  others 
and  you  are  stronger  and  cleverer 
than  they." 

"Very  well,"  said  Two  -  Legs. 
"Then  you  shall  keep  watch  over  me 
and  mine  and  help  me  when  I  go 
hunting  and  bear  me  company." 


50 


IV 

TIME   PASSES 

THE  rainy  season  went  by,  the  sun 
recovered  his  strength  and  rain  and 
sunshine  came  and  went  by  turns. 
Time  passed,  as  it  must  and  will  pass. 

The  Two-Legs  family  were  now 
living  in  a  new  house,  which  was  bet- 
ter than  either  the  leafy  hut  on  the 
island  or  the  dwelling  up  in  the 
apple-tree. 

It  was  a  cave  in  the  rocks,  which 
Two-Legs  had  discovered  on  one  of 
his  rambles.  It  was  cool  in  the  warm 
weather  and  mild  in  the  cold,  it  was 
sheltered  against  the  rain  and  it 
could  be  closed  with  a  big  stone  at 

51 


TWO-LEGS 

night  or  when  danger  threatened. 
Two-Legs  had  hung  the  walls  with 
skins  and  carpeted  the  floor  with 
moss  and  now  felt  comfortably  at 
home  with  his  family  and  the  dog. 

He  had  plenty  to  do,  for  the  family 
had  increased.  He  now  had  three 
children,  who  were  doing  excellently 
well  and  eating  like  wolves.  He  had 
had  to  be  careful  since  the  night  when 
he  had  flung  the  bone  at  the  lion's 
head,  for  not  only  had  he  made  an 
enemy  of  the  king  of  beasts,  but  most 
of  the  other  animals  of  the  forest 
looked  upon  him  with  suspicion. 

And  they  were  well-advised,  for 
Two-Legs  had  become  a  mighty 
hunter,  in  no  way  inferior  to  the  lion 
himself. 

In  the  back  room  of  his  cave  he 
kept  two  big  spears  and  one  little 

52 


TIME  PASSES 

one  which  his  eldest  son  was  already 
able  to  use  very  cleverly.  They  lay 
in  wait  craftily  for  their  prey,  just 
as  the  lion  and  the  other  hunters  of 
the  forest  did.  The  dog  drove  the 
game  towards  them  and  they  threw 
their  spears  and  killed  it. 

"He's  a  better  hunter  than  I,"  said 
the  lion,  one  evening,  to  his  wife. 
"He  got  a  young  deer  with  his  spear 
to-day  that  I  had  picked  out  for  my- 
self." 

"Why  didn't  you  catch  her  your- 
self?" asked  the  lioness. 

"I  was  crawling  up  to  her  in  the 
grass,"  he  replied.  "But,  before  I 
could  make  my  spring,  Two-Legs 
had  killed  her.  He  sent  his  spear 
through  her  neck  and  she  fell  dead 
on  the  spot." 

"Then   why   didn't   you  take  her 

53 


TWO-LEGS 

from  him  after  he  had  killed  her?" 
asked  the  lioness  again. 

"He  had  another  spear  in  his  hand," 
said  the  lion.  "And  his  youngling 
had  one  also.  The  spear  is  a  thing  I 
don't  understand.  They  who  are 
struck  by  it  fall  down  and  die." 

"You're  afraid  of  Two  -  Legs," 
sneered  the  lioness.  "He's  the  king 
of  the  forest,  not  you.  If  your  son 
proves  as  big  a  coward  as  yourself, 
we're  done  for." 

The  lion  said  nothing,  but  lay  star- 
ing before  him  with  his  yellow  eyes. 

But,  a  little  before  daybreak,  he 
stole  up  to  Two-Legs'  cave,  hid  in 
the  bushes  and  waited  patiently  until 
the  stone  was  rolled  away.  This  hap- 
pened immediately  after  sunrise.  The 
lion  made  ready  to  leap.  He  saw  blood 
before  his  eyes  and  sprang,  almost 

54 


TIME  PASSES 

without  thinking,  upon  the  first  form 
that  appeared,  struck  it  down  with 
his  powerful  claws  and  carried  it 
back  with  a  bound  into  the  bushes. 

A  terrible  scream  brought  Two- 
Legs  to  the  entrance  of  the  cave.  He 
stood  holding  a  spear  in  either  hand. 
The  lion  saw  that  he  had  not  killed 
his  enemy,  but  only  one  of  his  child- 
ren. He  let  go  the  corpse  and  pre- 
pared to  make  a  fresh  spring.  Two- 
Legs  now  saw  him  among  the  leaves. 
He  flung  one  spear  and  missed  him. 
Then  he  threw  the  other,  but  the 
lion  was  gone,  with  great  bounds. 

With  tears  and  lamentations,  Two- 
Legs  and  his  wife  bore  the  dead  child 
into  the  cave.  The  lion,  hurried  by 
fear,  fled  through  the  forest.  Wher- 
ever he  came,  the  terrified  animals 
fell  aside. 

55 


TWO-LEGS 

"The  lion  is  flying  from  Two- 
Legs,"  announced  the  sparrow. 

And  the  rumour  spread  through  the 
whole  forest  and  grew. 

"Two-Legs  has  wounded  the  king 
of  beasts  with  his  spear,"  screamed 
the  crow. 

"Two-Legs  has  killed  the  lion  and 
is  hunting  the  lioness,"  squeaked  the 
mouse. 

And  the  lion  fled  on. 

He  rushed  past  his  lair,  as  though 
he  dared  not  look  his  wife  in  the  face. 
He  did  not  come  home  until  late  at 
night. 

"Are  you  still  alive?"  asked  the 
lioness,  scoffing.  "The  whole  forest 
believes  you  dead.  And  what  about 
Two-Legs?" 

"I  have  killed  one  of  his  young," 
answered  the  lion,  angrily. 
56 


TIME  PASSES 

"What's  the  good  of  that?"  asked 
she. 

Then  he  caught  her  a  box  on  the 
ear  the  like  of  which  she  had  never 
had  before,  lay  down  and  stared  be- 
fore him  with  his  yellow  eyes. 

But  the  animals  in  the  forest  all 
wondered  and  whispered  to  one  an- 
other : 

"The  lion  is  afraid.  .  .  .  The  lion 
runs  away  from  Two-Legs." 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  so?"  said  the  ox. 
"We  ought  to  have  killed  him  then 
and  there." 

"Ah,  yes!"  said  the  horse.  "If  the 
lion  had  only  taken  our  advice!" 

"Ah,  yes!"  sighed  the  duck  and  the 
goose  and  the  hen. 

But  the  orang-outang  went  to  one 
side  in  the  forest  and  reflected: 

"My  cousin  is  not  such  a  fool  as 

57 


TWO-LEGS 

I  thought,"  said  he  to  himself.  "I 
really  don't  know  why  I  shouldn't 
go  and  do  the  same.  I  am  like  him, 
but  have  many  advantages  which  he 
has  not;  and  I  ought  to  do  at  least 
as  well  as  he." 

He  took  a  stick  and  tried  if  he  could 
walk  like  Two-Legs.  He  succeeded 
quite  nicely  and  then  he  made  for 
the  other  animals.  He  lifted  his  stick, 
yelled  and  made  terrible  eyes.  But  the 
animals  crowded  round  and  laughed 
at  him.  The  fox  snatched  the  stick 
from  his  hand,  the  stag  butted  him 
in  the  back,  the  sparrow  behaved  un- 
civilly on  his  head  and  they  all  made 
such  fun  of  him  that  he  ran  away 
and  hid  in  the  copsewood,  where  it 
was  thickest. 

But  the  next  morning  the  animals 
had  fresh  food  for  thought. 

58 


TIME  PASSES 

They  saw  Two-Legs  carry  the 
corpse  into  the  forest  and  build  a 
great  heap  of  stones  over  it.  His  wife 
picked  the  reddest  flowers  and  laid 
them  on  the  stones. 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  the  nightin- 
gale. "When  another  dies,  he's  left, 
if  you  please,  to  lie  where  he  falls. 
But  as  much  fuss  is  made  about  this 
brat  as  if  his  memory  were  to  last  for 
all  eternity!  I  don't  even  know  what 
has  become  of  my  living  children  of 
last  year,  not  to  speak  of  the  poor 
little  chap  who  fell  out  of  the  nest 
and  broke  his  neck." 

"You  just  wait.  There's  worse  to 
come,"  said  the  ox. 

And  it  came.  For,   a  week  later, 

something    happened    that    enraged 

the  animals  of  the  forest  more  than 

all  that  had  gone  before.  Mrs.  Two- 

59 


TWO-LEGS 

Legs  saw  a  splendid  bird  of  paradise 
sitting  in  a  tree. 

"What  wonderful  feathers!"  she 
said.  "If  I  could  only  have  a  tuft 
like  that  to  wear  in  my  hair!" 

Two-Legs,  who  wanted  to  do  every- 
thing to  console  her  for  the  death  of 
the  child,  at  once  went  out  with  his 
spear  and  soon  came  back  with  the 
dead  bird  of  paradise.  She  pulled  out 
his  feathers  and  stuck  them  in  her 
hair  and  thought  she  looked  charm- 
ing; and  Two-Legs  thought  so  too. 

"Now  this  is  really  too  bad,"  said 
the  nightingale.  "To  kill  a  bird  only 
to  adorn  his  wife  with  the  feathers! 
Did  you  ever  in  your  born  days !  It's 
well  for  me  that  I'm  grey  and  ugly." 

The  widow  of  the  bird  of  paradise, 
followed  by  a  great  host,  went  off  to 
the  lion. 

60 


TIME  PASSES 

"The  new  animals  have  killed  my 
husband,"  she  said.  "Here  am  I  left 
a  widow  with  four  cold  eggs.  Now 
that  my  bread-winner  is  killed,  I 
can't  stay  at  home  and  sit  on  the 
eggs,  unless  I  want  to  die  of  hunger. 
So  I  left  them,  to  look  for  some  food. 
When  I  returned,  they  were  cold  and 
dead.  I  have  come  to  demand  ven- 
geance upon  the  murderer." 

"What  can  I  say?"  said  the  lion. 
"There  are  so  many  widows  in  the 
forest.  I  myself  don't  ask  if  the  ani- 
mals that  I  kill,  when  I  am  hungry, 
have  wives  and  children  at  home." 

"He  didn't  do  it  because  he  was 
hungry,"  said  the  widow  of  the  bird 
of  paradise.  "He  did  it  only  to  pre- 
sent his  wife  with  a  tuft  of  feathers 
for  her  hair." 

"What's  he  to  do  when  his  wife  asks 
61 


TWO-LEGS 

him?"  said  the  lion.  "It's  no  joke  to 
fall  out  with  the  missis." 

Some  of  the  animals  laughed.  But 
most  of  them  shook  their  heads  and 
thought  it  a  stupid  jest,  unworthy  of 
the  king  of  beasts. 

The  next  day,  the  animals  of  the 
forest  spoke  of  nothing  but  Two- 
Legs.  They  one  and  all  had  some- 
thing to  complain  of. 

"He  took  my  whole  nest,  the  other 
day,  with  seventeen  new-laid  eggs  in 
it,"  said  the  hen. 

"There  are  no  fish  left  in  the  river," 
said  the  otter.  "And  one  gets  blud- 
geoned into  the  bargain." 

"One  can  no  longer  graze  in  peace 
in  the  meadows,"  said  the  stag. 

But,  if  sorrow  and  terror  reigned 
among  the  large  and  important  ani- 
mals, the  small  and  poor  animals 

62 


TIME  PASSES 

were  just  LS  glad  and,  in  fact,  were 
highly  amused  at  the  misfortunes  of 
their  betters. 

"Why  should  we  care?"  asked  the 
fly.  "Let  the  big  ones  eat  one  an- 
other up,  as  they  please:  it  doesn't 
concern  us  in  any  case.  And  I,  for 
my  part,  would  rather  have  Two- 
Legs  than  the  nightingale." 

"No  one  is  safe,"  said  the  bee.  "He 
took  my  honey  yesterday." 

"Yes,"  said  the  earth-worm.  "And, 
the  day  before  that,  he  took  my  own 
brother,  stuck  him  on  a  hook  and 
caught  a  perch  with  him." 


68 


V 

TWO-LEGS   ENLARGES   HIS   POSSESSIONS 

TWO-LEGS  sat  thinking  outside  his 
cave.  The  dog  lay  at  his  feet  asleep. 
Indoors,  Mrs.  Two-Legs  was  busy 
preparing  breakfast. 

Two-Legs  was  in  a  bad  temper,  for 
he  had  had  bad  hunting. 

The  day  before,  he  had  scoured  the 
forest  without  coming  upon  any 
game  whatever  and,  that  morning, 
he  had  done  no  better. 

The  animals  had  become  afraid  of 
him.  His  spear  had  reduced  their 
numbers  so  greatly  that  they  fled  the 
moment  they  saw  him  come  in  the 
distance.  They  knew  the  hours  when 
he  went  hunting  and  they  hid  from 

64 


HE   ENLARGES  HIS  POSSESSIONS 

him.  They  posted  sentries,  who 
warned  them  with  loud  cries  when 
he  or  the  dog  came  in  sight.  There 
was  not  a  stag  nor  an  ox  nor  a  sheep 
nor  a  goat  in  the  country  that  lay 
nearest  to  the  cave.  Scarcely  ever  did 
an  animal  graze  in  the  meadow  down 
below,  in  front  of  it.  They  had  all 
retired  to  where  the  forest  grew 
thickest  and  where  he  could  only 
penetrate  with  difficulty.  Nor  did  it 
give  him  any  pleasure  to  hunt  up 
there,  where  the  lion  might  so  easily 
be  lying  in  ambush. 

"Things  are  looking  bad,  Trust," 
he  said  to  the  dog.  "We  must  invent 
something  new." 

He  sat  and  sharpened  his  knives 
and  axes,  which  he  had  made  out  of 
flint,  and  then  Mrs.  Two-Legs  came 
out  with  the  breakfast,  which  con- 

65 


TWO-LEGS 

sisted  only  of  apples  and  nuts.  There 
was  not  even  a  fish  to  be  had.  The 
fish  disappeared  as  soon  as  they  saw 
Two-Legs'  reflection  in  the  water. 

"I  say,"  said  Two-Legs,  suddenly. 
"It  would  be  much  easier  if  I  caught 
a  couple  of  sheep  and  we  kept  them 
here  in  the  cave.  Then  they  would 
have  lambs,  which  we  could  kill,  and 
I  need  not  continually  and  perpetu- 
ally go  hunting." 

Mrs.  Two-Legs  thought  this  a  good 
idea  and,  as  they  sat  and  talked  about 
it,  he  recovered  his  temper.  He  wove 
a  long  rope  of  tendrils  and  then  went 
off  with  his  spear,  the  dog  and  two 
of  his  sons. 

He  stole  along  the  borders  of  the 
forest  until  at  last  he  caught  sight 
of  a  sheep  that  was  grazing  in  a  dis- 
tant meadow  with  two  lambs.  He 

66 


HE   ENLARGES  HIS  POSSESSIONS 

crept  up  to  her  on  all  fours,  while 
Trust  received  orders  to  be  quite  still. 
When  he  was  near  enough,  he  flung 
the  sling  and  was  lucky  enough  to 
drop  it  just  over  the  neck  of  the 
sheep.  She  bleated  pitifully,  but  the 
noose  held  fast  and  tightened.  Two- 
Legs,  rejoicing,  led  the  animal  home 
and  the  two  little  lambs  came  after, 
for  they  did  not  know  what  else  to  do. 

When  he  came  home,  he  fastened 
the  sheep  to  a  tree  in  front  of  the 
cave.  They  ate  one  of  the  lambs  and 
let  the  other  live.  The  children  ran 
down  to  the  meadow  and  fetched 
armfuls  of  grass  and  the  sheep  ate 
and  gave  her  lamb  to  drink. 

"Do  you  mean  to  eat  me  too?"  she 
asked  Two-Legs  that  evening,  as  he 
sat  outside  the  cave  with  his  family, 
rejoicing  over  his  work. 

67 


TWO-LEGS 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  do  not.  I  shall 
keep  you  with  me  and  you  shall  be 
my  servant,  like  the  dog.  To-morrow, 
I  shall  go  out  and  catch  your  hus- 
band. Then  you  shall  bear  me  plenty 
of  lambs  and  I  shall  eat  some  and 
put  some  by,  just  as  I  happen  to 
want  them." 

"You  killed  my  sister  and  pulled 
off  her  skin,"  said  the  sheep. 

"I  know  better  now,"  said  Two- 
Legs.  "You  shall  see  for  yourself." 

Mrs.  Two-Legs  came  with  a  knife 
and  cut  off  the  old  sheep's  wool.  The 
sheep  struggled  and  yelled  pitifully, 
but  Two-Legs  was  determined  and 
she  was  bound  so  tight  that  resistance 
was  of  no  avail. 

"Now  I  shall  be  cold  myself  when 
it  rains,"  cried  the  sheep. 

"Nonsense  1"  said  Two-Legs.  "When 

68 


HE   ENLARGES  HIS  POSSESSIONS 

it  turns  cold,  I  shall  take  you  into 
my  cave.  I  want  your  wool  to  make 
clothes  of.  It's  no  use  your  raising 
difficulties.  If  you're  good  and  obe- 
dient, you  shall  have  a  better  time 
with  me  than  you  ever  had  in  your 
life." 

At  night,  while  Two-Legs  slept, 
the  sheep  stood  outside  and  thought 
over  things.  The  ox  stuck  his  head 
across  the  bushes  and,  a  little  after- 
wards, the  stag  stood  there  too  and 
the  horse  and  the  goat  and  many  of 
the  other  animals. 

"What  has  he  hit  upon  now?"  asked 
the  ox.  "The  sparrow  says  that  he 
has  fastened  you  up  and  cut  off  your 
wool." 

"It's  only  too  true,"  replied  the 
sheep.  "See  for  yourself  how  naked 
I  am.  He  has  eaten  one  of  my  lambs 

69 


TWO-LEGS 

and  he  is  going  to  catch  my  husband 
to-morrow.  But  I  must  say  that  he 
has  plucked  grass  for  me,  so  that  I 
have  eaten  my  fill." 

"It  is  awful,"  said  the  ox.  "But  it 
is  only  what  we  expected.  Can't  you 
get  loose?" 

"I've  tried,"  said  the  sheep.  "But 
it's  no  use.  The  more  I  pull,  the 
tighter  the  noose  gets  round  my 
neck.  I  am  a  prisoner  and  a  prisoner 
I  remain." 

"Rather  die  than  live  a  slave!"  said 
the  wolf.  "I  will  do  your  lamb  the 
service  to  eat  her." 

So  saying,  he  caught  hold  of  the 
lamb  and  bit  her  in  the  throat.  The 
sheep  screamed  at  the  top  of  her 
voice,  Two-Legs  woke  up  and  ran 
out  and  all  the  animals  rushed  away. 

"You've   been    asleep,    Trust,"   he 

70 


HE   ENLARGES  HIS  POSSESSIONS 

said.  "We  must  see  to-morrow  how 
we  can  prevent  these  accidents.  A 
nice  thing,  if  I  am  to  catch  sheep  for 
the  wolf  and  fatten  them  for  him  to 
eat!" 

And  the  next  morning  he  thought 
of  a  remedy. 

He  and  his  sons  went  into  the  forest 
and  felled  some  trees  with  their  axes. 
Then  they  cut  them  into  sharp  stakes 
and,  after  they  had  prepared  a  quan- 
tity of  these,  they  planted  them  in  a 
circle  outside  the  cave.  Then  they 
wove  twigs  between  the  stakes'  and, 
by  sunset,  they  had  a  safe  and  strong 
pen  over  which  no  wolf  could  jump. 
Two-Legs  put  the  sheep  into  it. 

A  few  days  later,  he  caught  the  ram 

with  his  sling.  He  went  on  hunting 

and  soon  the  cow  was  there  and  the 

bull  and  their  calves.  The  pen  was 

71 


TWO-LEGS 

too  small  and  he  had  to  build  a  big- 
ger one.  The  whole  family  went  out 
to  fetch  grass,  but  could  never  bring 
in  enough.  The  animals  in  the  pen 
bleated  and  lowed. 
At  night,  they  talked  together: 
"Candidly  speaking,"  said  the 
sheep,  "this  life  has  its  advantages. 
Down  there,  in  the  meadow,  one 
never  felt  sure  of  one's  life:  first  the 
lion  was  after  one,  then  the  wolf  and 
the  snake  and  the  eagle,  to  say  no- 
thing of  Two-Legs  himself." 

"There  is  something  in  that,"  said 
the  cow.  "But  I  can't  stand  the  way 
in  which  Mrs.  Two-Legs  pulls  at  my 
udders.  And  then  I  am  not  so  sure 
that  they  don't  mean  to  kill  me  one 
fine  day.  There  will  be  too  many  of 
us  here  before  long." 


VI 

TWO-LEGS   WANDERS 

TWO-LEGS  began  to  find  it  difficult 
to  provide  grass  for  the  many  ani- 
mals which  he  had  in  the  pen. 

He  and  his  family  had  long  plucked 
all  that  grew  nearest  the  cave.  Now 
they  had  to  go  a  long  way  to  find 
any  and  it  was  hard  work  getting  it 
home. 

"We  shall  have  to  move,"  he  said 
to  his  wife.  "We  can't  go  on  drag- 
ging the  grass  up  for  all  the  animals. 
And,  as  the  grass  won't  come  to  us, 
we  must  go  to  the  grass.  We  must 
go  down  to  the  meadow  again.  You 
will  have  to  weave  us  a  woollen  tent. 
Then  we  will  get  all  the  skins  we  can 
73 


TWO-LEGS 

and  dig  stakes  into  the  ground  and 
hang  the  skins  over  them.  That's  the 
best  way.  And  then  the  animals  can 
go  and  graze  all  round  the  tent." 

"But  when  they  have  eaten  the 
grass  in  the  meadow,  what  then?" 
asked  Mrs.  Two-Legs. 

"Then  we  will  pass  on  to  the  next 
one,"  answered  Two-Legs.  "We  will 
pack  up  the  tent,  load  it  on  the  back 
of  the  cow  and  move  on." 

"If  only  the  animals  don't  run 
away!"  said  she. 

"Trust  must  help  me  to  look  after 
them,"  he  replied.  "And  the  boys. 
Then  all  will  be  well.  They  know  us 
now  and  they  let  us  stroke  them. 
You  shall  see,  they  will  soon  be  quite 
tame." 

The  next  morning,  they  began  to 
break  up  the  pen. 
74 


TWO-LEGS  WANDERS 

"Is  he  going  to  set  us  free?"  asked 
the  cow. 

"I  don't  want  to  go  down  to  the 
meadow  again,"  said  the  sheep  and 
began  to  cry.  "My  legs  are  stiffer 
than  they  were  and  I  can't  walk  as 
well  as  I  used  to.  And  my  eye-sight 
is  worse  and  I  have  hardly  any  scent 
left:  it's  so  long  since  I  used  my 
senses.  I  want  to  stay  with  Two- 
Legs  and  obtain  my  food  from  his 
hand." 

"You've  already  become  a  slave," 
said  the  cow.  "And  you  don't  deserve 
to  be  free.  If  I  see  my  chance,  I  shall 
be  off.  He  killed  my  calf  yester- 
day: I  shall  never  forgive  him  for 
that." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  the  sheep,  "sup- 
pose we  do  lose  a  youngling  or  two 
and  even  risk  losing  our  own  lives: 

75 


TWO-LEGS 

what  other  fate  could  we  expect  in 
any  case?" 

"You  have  the  soul  of  a  serf  1"  said 
the  cow,  contemptuously. 

Two-Legs  had  finished  breaking 
down  the  pen.  Meanwhile,  his  wife 
had  packed  up  all  their  things.  They 
loaded  the  cow  with  as  much  as  she 
could  carry,  took  up  the  rest  them- 
selves and  started  on  their  way  to  the 
meadow. 

"My  fears  are  now  being  realized," 
said  the  cow,  groaning  under  the  un- 
wonted burden.  "I  am  dead-tired  in 
my  loins  and  legs." 

And  hardly  had  they  come  down  to 
where  the  meadow  began,  when  she 
threw  off  her  load  and  rushed  away, 
followed  by  the  bull.  Trust  flew  after 
them,  but  they  turned  round  and 
showed  him  their  horns,  which  made 
76 


TWO-LEGS  WANDERS 

him  run  back  with  his  tail  between 
his  legs.  Two-Legs  threw  his  spear 
at  them,  but  missed  them. 

"Time  will  bring  counsel,"  he  said. 
"I  shall  go  out  and  catch  them  again 
to-morrow.  Let  us  pitch  our  tent  now 
and  arrange  our  things." 

They  set  up  the  tent  on  a  little  hill 
from  which  they  could  look  over  the 
meadow.  At  the  foot  bubbled  a 
spring.  Trust  drove  the  sheep  into 
the  meadow  and  home  again.  Two- 
Legs  caught  the  hen,  the  goose  and 
the  duck  and  clipped  their  wings,  so 
that  they  could  not  fly  away.  Gradu- 
ally, he  got  a  number  of  sheep  and 
goats  and  a  quantity  of  poultry. 

When  the  animals  had  eaten  all  the 

grass  in  that  place,  he  struck  his  tent 

again  and  moved  to  another  meadow 

and  so  it  went  on.  It  appeared  as  if 

77 


TWO-LEGS 

he  had  quite  forgotten  the  cow.  But, 
one  day,  his  wife  reminded  him  of 
her: 

"You  must  get  the  cow  back  for 
me,"  she  said.  "I  need  her  milk  so 
badly.  And  both  I  and  the  children 
want  new  calf -skin  sandals." 

Two-Legs  took  his  spear,  hung  his 
sling  round  his  neck  and  went  off  to 
look  for  the  cow.  When  he  had  gone 
some  way,  he  saw  her  in  the  distance ; 
but  she  saw  him  too  and  trotted  away 
at  once.  The  horse,  who  was  standing 
a  little  way  off,  looked  at  Two-Legs 
mockingly : 

"You  would  like  to  have  my  four 
quick  legs,"  he  said. 

"I  should  indeed!" 

"It's  well  that  there's  something 
you  can't  manage,"  said  the  horse. 
"It's  dangerous,  otherwise,  the  way 
78 


TWO-LEGS  WANDERS 

you  play  at  being  master  of  the 
forest." 

Two-Legs  made  no  reply,  but  very 
quietly  unwound  his  sling.  Then, 
when  he  had  got  it  right,  he  suddenly 
threw  it  over  the  horse's  head.  It 
fell  round  the  animal's  neck  and  he 
reared  on  his  hind-legs  and  darted 
away  wildly.  But,  at  every  leap  he 
took,  the  noose  drew  tighter  and 
Two-Legs  did  not  let  go  the  rope. 
At  one  moment,  he  was  dragged 
along  the  ground  and,  at  the  next, 
recovered  his  feet  again.  He  twisted 
the  rope  round  his  hand  and  it  cut 
into  his  flesh  till  the  blood  came,  but 
he  did  not  let  go. 

At  last  the  horse  grew  tired.  He 
stood  still,  quivering  in  all  his  limbs. 
The  foam  flew  from  his  mouth. 

"What  do  you  want  with  me?"  he 
79 


TWO-LEGS 

said.  "My  flesh  is  not  nice  to  eat  and 
my  milk  isn't  sweet  and  I  have  no 
wool  for  you  to  cut  off." 

"I  want  to  borrow  your  four  legs," 
said  Two-Legs.  "You  were  boasting 
of  them  yourself.  Come  up!  Stand 
still  now!  If  you're  good,  I  won't 
hurt  you." 

He  wound  the  rope  round  his  arm 
and  came  closer  and  closer.  He 
patted  the  sweating  horse,  then  sud- 
denly caught  hold  of  his  mane  and 
swung  himself  upon  his  back.  The 
horse  reared  and  plunged  and  kicked 
his  hind-legs  high  in  the  air  and  tried, 
in  every  way,  to  get  rid  of  his  rider. 
But  Two-Legs  held  on  to  the  mane 
and  the  rope  with  his  hands  and 
gripped  tight  with  his  legs  and  kept 
his  seat  for  all  the  effort  it  cost  him. 
Gradually,  the  horse  became  quieter 

80 


TWO-LEGS  WANDERS 

again  and  then  Two-Legs  patted 
him  on  the  neck: 

"Now  go  after  the  cow!"  he  cried. 

He  pressed  his  heels  into  the  horse's 
flanks  and  gave  him  a  smack.  Then 
they  flew  in  a  rousing  gallop  over  the 
meadow.  The  cow  did  not  even  at- 
tempt to  run  away,  but  stood  star- 
ing in  amazement  at  that  wonderful 
sight.  Before  she  had  collected  her- 
self, the  sling  was  round  her  neck 
and  Two-Legs  proudly  rode  home 
with  his  capture. 

When  they  reached  the  tent,  he 
sprang  from  the  horse,  patted  him 
and  thanked  him.  But  he  made  no 
show  of  taking  the  noose  from  the 
horse's  neck. 

"Won't  you  let  me  go?"  asked  the 
horse. 

"No,"  said  Two-Legs.  "But  I'll  do 

81 


TWO-LEGS 

better  for  you.  You  shall  now  drink 
from  the  spring  and  then  you  shall 
have  the  juiciest  grass  to  eat  that 
you  ever  tasted.  After  that,  you  shall 
lie  down  and  reflect  that  you  are  now 
in  my  service  and  that  you  can  spend 
the  remainder  of  your  days  free  of 
all  cares,  without  the  very  least  anxi- 
ety, if  only  you  will  be  faithful  and 
willing  and  do  the  little  bit  of  work 
that  I  shall  require  of  you." 

He  fed  the  horse  and  fastened  him 
to  the  door  of  the  tent.  The  cow  stood 
tethered  close  by. 

"Shall  we  see  if  we  can  get  loose?" 
whispered  the  horse,  when  night 
came  and  Two-Legs  was  asleep. 

"No,"  said  the  cow  and  shook  her 
head.  "I  sha'n't  run  away  again.  I 
accept  my  lot.  It  was  a  terrible  sight 
to  see  him  on  your  back.  He  is  the 

82 


TWO-LEGS  WANDERS 

master  of  us  all.  No  one  can  resist 
him." 

But  the  sparrow  flew  round  the  for- 
est on  her  swift  wings: 

"Two-Legs  has  caught  the  horse. 
.  .  .  He  rides  on  his  back.  .  .  .  He  has 
fastened  him  to  his  tent.  .  .  .  The  horse 
has  become  Two-Legs'  servant." 

"Have  you  heard  the  latest?"  the 
lioness  asked  her  husband.  "Do  you 
mean  to  let  him  ride  on  your  back  too, 
when  he  goes  hunting?" 

The  lion  gave  a  threatening  roar. 

"He  had  better  just  try!"  he  said. 

"He's  too  careful,"  answered  the 
lioness,  with  a  sneer.  "And  you  would 
get  out  of  his  way,  coward  and  de- 
generate that  you  are!" 

The  lion  laid  his  head  on  his  paws 
and  said  nothing,  but  brooded  dark 
thoughts. 

83 


VII 

TWO-LEGS   SOWS 

TWO-LEGS  moved  with  his  herd  from 
one  meadow  to  the  other. 

The  herd  increased  year  by  year,  as 
did  his  family.  Mrs.  Two-Legs  had 
now  borne  her  husband  seven  sons 
and  seven  daughters,  who  were  all 
doing  well  and  helping  in  the  house 
and  with  the  cattle. 

And  the  animals  were  more  and 
more  pleased  to  be  in  his  service. 

The  horse  carried  him  when  he  went 
hunting  and  walked  beside  him  when 
he  struck  the  tent  and  moved  to  a 
new  pasturage.  He  came  at  Two- 
Legs'  call  and  neither  he  nor  any 

84 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

other  of  the  animals  thought  seri- 
ously of  running  away,  so  that  Trust 
had  an  easy  job  in  watching  over 
them.  Now  and  then,  they  felt  an 
inclination  for  freedom,  especially 
when  they  were  talking  to  the  wild 
animals.  But  it  went  no  further  than 
the  inclination. 

For  instance,  one  night  in  the  rainy 
season,  the  stag  came  to  the  tent 
vhich  Two-Legs  had  put  up  to  pro- 
tect his  animals. 

"Well,  you're  nice  and  dry  here," 
said  the  stag  and  looked  enviously 
into  the  tent. 

"You're  right,"  replied  the  sheep. 
"It  is  really  much  better  than  in  the 
old  days,  when  we  used  to  take  shel- 
ter under  a  tree  and  get  drenched  all 
the  same." 

"Just  so,"  said  the  cow.  "And  in 

85 


TWO-LEGS 

the  dry  season  too  it  was  pleasant  to 
get  our  good  food  every  day,  which 
Two-Legs  had  stored  up  for  us,  in- 
stead of  having  to  go  all  over  the 
country,  as  before,  in  search  of  a 
blade  of  grass." 

"But  I  thought  you  had  to  work 
for  it,"  said  the  stag.  "I  have  often 
seen  you  drudging  and  toiling  for 
your  master." 

"One  good  turn  deserves  another," 
said  the  horse.  "For  the  rest,  I  can't 
deny  that  my  presentiments  have 
been  fulfilled.  All  my  limbs  hurt  me 
terribly  after  the  day's  work." 

"And  so  do  ours,"  said  the  ox  and 
the  cow. 

The  duck,  the  goose  and  the  hen 
agreed.  But  the  sheep,  shook  her  fat 
head,  while  she  went  on  chewing  the 
cud: 

86 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

"I  can't  remember  what  sort  of 
presentiment  I  had,"  she  said.  "I  am 
well  off  as  I  am." 

"Are  you  grumbling?"  asked  Trust, 
who  was  keeping  watch  and  never 
slept  with  more  than  one  eye  shut. 
"Shall  I  call  the  master?" 

The  stag  took  fright  and  ran  away. 
But  the  horse  said : 

"No,  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  He  has 
worked  hard  himself  to-day  and  is  no 
doubt  as  tired  as  we  are.  It  would  be 
a  shame  to  wake  him." 

Then  it  grew  still  in  the  tent. 

But  Two-Legs  was  not  asleep  in  his 
own  tent. 

On  the  contrary,  he  was  wide  awake, 
thinking  over  things,  and  his  wife 
could  not  sleep  either,  for  she  was 
thinking  too. 

"I  am  sick  of  wandering  about  the 
87 


TWO-LEGS 

country,"  he  said,  at  last.  "We  are 
no  longer  young,  we  have  a  very 
large  family  and  sometimes  the  work 
makes  me  very  tired." 

"Me  too,"  said  Mrs.  Two-Legs. 
"But  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
We  are  obliged  to  move  about  to  get 
the  grass  we  want." 

Two-Legs  said  nothing,  for  the  mo- 
ment. 

He  rose  and  went  out  into  the 
rain,  had  a  look  at  his  animals  and 
then  came  back  again  and  sat  down 
in  his  old  place.  The  lion  was  roar- 
ing outside  in  the  meadow. 

"Do  you  hear  him?"  asked  Mrs. 
Two-Legs. 

Two-Legs  nodded. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  after  a  while, 
"where  does  the  grass  come  from?" 

"You  know  as  well  as  I  do,"  she 

88 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

said.  "We  have  often  talked  of  how 
it  scatters  its  seed  and  how  the  seed 
shoots  up  between  the  old  withered 
blades  when  the  rain  comes." 

"Quite  right,"  said  Two  -  Legs. 
"And  why  shouldn't  we  collect  the 
seed  and  sow  it  ourselves?  Now,  if 
we  pull  up  all  the  old  grass  and  take 
the  seed  of  the  kind  which  our  ani- 
mais  like  best,  we  ought  to  be  able 
to  make  it  grow  much  thicker.  And 
then  we  could  reap  the  seed  again 
and  sow  it  again  and  go  on  living  in 
the  same  place  year  after  year." 

"Oh,  if  we  could  only  do  that!" 
cried  Mrs.  Two-Legs  and  clapped 
her  hands. 

"Why  not?"  said  Two-Legs.  "And, 
if  we  succeed  in  this,  then  we  can 
build  a  proper,  solid  house  for  our- 
selves and  our  animals.  I  am  sure 

89 


TWO-LEGS 

that  we  can  fell  the  biggest  trees 
with  our  flint  axes,  if  only  we  have 
patience  and  persevere.  As  soon  as 
the  rain  stops,  I  shall  go  out  and  look 
for  a  place  where  we  can  settle  down 
for  the  rest  of  our  days." 

A  week  later,  the  sky  was  clear 
again.  Two-Legs  mounted  his  horse, 
took  leave  of  his  family  and  said  that 
he  would  not  come  home  before  he 
had  found  what  he  sought.  He  did 
not  return  till  the  evening  of  the 
third  day  and  ordered  them  to  pack 
up  early  next  morning  and  go  with 
him. 

When  they  came  to  the  place,  they 
had  to  admit  that  he  had  made  a  good 
choice. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  ground 
was  good  and  fertile:  everything 
around  grew  so  fresh  and  luxuriant. 

90 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

There  was  a  large,  open  field  and  on 
one  side  of  it  was  the  forest,  on  the 
other  a  meadow  which,  in  its  turn, 
ran  down  to  a  great  lake,  where  fish 
leapt  and  played.  Beyond  the  lake 
were  the  distant  blue  mountains, 
which  were  beautiful  to  look  at  and 
to  dream  of.  Just  at  the  edge  of  the 
forest  lay  a  hill,  at  whose  foot  a 
brook  flowed.  The  brook  ran  into  the 
river,  which  wound  through  the 
meadow,  and  the  river  ran  into  the 
lake. 

And  the  field  and  the  meadow  were 
full  of  all  kinds  of  grass  and  flowers. 
There  were  poppies  larger  and  red- 
der than  Two-Legs  had  ever  seen. 
And  there  were  bluebells  and  car- 
rots, convolvuluses  and  corn-flowers, 
thistles  and  docks  and  violets  and 
many,  many  flowers.  They  grew  and 
91 


TWO-LEGS 

spread  themselves  as  they  pleased, 
for  they  themselves  were  the  lords  of 
the  land. 

"This  is  where  we  shall  settle,"  said 
Two-Legs.  "We  shall  build  a  big, 
strong  house  on  the  hill,  with  stables 
for  our  animals  and  a  palisade  out- 
side to  keep  off  those  who  wish  us 
harm.  Let  us  start  without  delay. 
You'll  see  something,  once  the  house 
is  there!" 

He  and  his  sons  set  to  work  at  once 
felling  trees. 

They  laboured  patiently  day  after 
day;  but  they  had  to  chop  hard  with 
their  stone  axes  before  the  big  trees 
gave  way.  A  great  cry  of  dismay 
rose  up  from  tree  to  tree,  far  into 
the  forest: 

"What  is  happening?  .  .  .  What 
does  he  want  with  us?  ...  Why 

92 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

must  we  die?"  whispered  the  trees  to 
one  another. 

But  Two-Legs  and  his  sons  heard 
nothing  and  saw  nothing.  They 
worked  and  worked  till  they  had 
what  they  wanted.  And  then  they 
built  a  strong  wooden  house  on  the 
hill,  built  two  houses,  three  houses: 
one  far  themselves,  a  stable  for  the 
animals  and  a  long,  big  house  for 
which  Two-Legs  had  a  purpose  of 
which  he  did  not  speak  for  the  pres- 
ent. 

They  closed  up  all  the  chinks  with 
moss.  And  round  the  whole  farm 
they  built  a  palisade  of  tall  stakes 
and  woven  twigs,  which  made  a  good 
wall  to  protect  them  against  their 
enemies. 

"That's  that,"  said  Two-Legs. 
"Now  to  work." 

93 


TWO-LEGS 

He  told  his  wife  to  sew  a  leather 
bag  for  himself  and  one  for  each  of 
the  family.  Then  they  went  to  the 
field  and  the  meadow  and  filled  their 
bags  with  seed  of  every  sort  of  grass 
that  they  wanted  to  sow. 

"Won't  you  have  a  few  of  my 
seeds?"  asked  the  poppy,  shedding 
her  scarlet  petals.  "I  have  thousands 
of  them  in  my  head  and  I  am  the 
prettiest  in  the  land." 

"You  may  be  pretty,"  said  Two- 
Legs,  "but  I  have  no  use  for  you." 

"You've  passed  me  by,"  said  the  vio- 
let, modestly. 

"You're  very  sweet,"  said  Two- 
Legs,  "but  you're  not  of  any  use 
to  me." 

"You're  forgetting  me,"  cried  the 
thistle.  "I  am  the  proudest  and 
strongest  in  the  whole  meadow." 

94 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

"But  I  am  the  toughest,"  cried  the 
dock. 

"Mind  you  take  none  of  their  seed," 
said  Two-Legs  to  his  family.  "Our 
animals  don't  eat  them." 

So  they  went  home  with  full  bags 
and  out  and  home  again,  until  they 
had  heaped  up  a  mighty  store. 

"Now  we  will  prepare  the  ground," 
said  Two-Legs.  "Come,  little  horse, 
and  lend  me  your  strength,  as  you 
have  done  before." 

He  made  a  plough,  harnessed  the 
horse  to  it  and  drove  it  across  the 
field,  step  by  step  and  furrow  after 
furrow.  He  rejoiced  when  he  saw  the 
earth  turn  under  the  stone  blades  of 
the  plough. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  this?" 
said  the  poppy  and  was  forthwith 
ploughed  over. 

95 


TWO-LEGS 

"It's  no  use,"  cried  the  thistle.  "Our 
seed  will  come  up  and  tease  you." 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  said  Two- 
Legs. 

Then  he  told  his  family  to  cut  off 
all  the  thistles  and  throw  them  away. 
And,  when  he  had  ploughed  as  much 
as  he  pleased,  he  took  the  grass-seed 
which  they  had  gathered  and  sowed  it 
in  the  good,  fresh  earth. 

"Now  we  must  wait  for  the  rain," 
he  said,  "and  see  how  things  go." 

And  the  rainy  season  came  and 
things  went  as  Two-Legs  had  hoped. 

Little  green  shoots  sprouted  all 
over  the  ploughed  field,  all  alike,  all 
grass  of  the  kind  which  the  animals 
loved.  Here  and  there,  it  is  true,  a 
thistle  appeared  and  a  poppy,  but 
most  of  it  was  good  grass. 

"Look!"    said    Two-Legs,    gladly. 

96 


TWO-LEGS  SOWS 

"Now  we  only  want  the  sunshine  and 
then  it  will  grow." 

The  sun  came  and  the  whole  field 
was  a  lovely  green  carpet  that  grew 
so  that  one  could  see  it  grow  from 
day  to  day. 

One  morning,  the  stag  came  to  the 
edge  of  the  forest  and  beheld  all  this 
with  amazement.  Then  he  shouted 
into  the  forest  to  his  family: 

"Come  here!  Here's  the  finest  field 
of  grass  you've  ever  seen  in  your 
lives!  Hurry  up  and  come!  I've 
started  grazing  already." 

"You've  started  grazing,  have 
you?"  cried  Two-Legs  and  came 
rushing  up  with  his  spear.  "Out  of 
this,  you  thief!  Do  you  imagine  that  I 
have  sown  corn  in  the  sweat  of  my 
brow  for  you  to  eat?  Get  out  of  it! 
This  field  belongs  to  mel" 
97 


TWO-LEGS 

The  stag  fled  as  fast  as  he  could 
into  the  forest.  But  the  sparrow  flew 
round  and  told  the  news  on  every 
hand: 

"Two-Legs  has  taken  a  great  piece 
of  land  which  no  one  is  allowed  to 
touch.  He  called  the  stag  a  thief 
when  he  tried  to  graze  on  itl" 


98 


VIII 

TWO-LEGS   ENJOYS   LIFE 

WHEN  the  time  came,  Two-Legs 
filled  the  house  which  he  had  built 
for  a  barn  with  the  produce  of  his 
field.  And  the  harvest  was  hardly 
gathered  before  he  began  to  think  of 
next  year. 

He  ploughed  a  new  field  and  an- 
other and  sowed  them.  The  year 
after,  he  cleared  a  part  of  the  forest 
and  tilled  that. 

And  so  he  went  on,  year  by  year, 
until  he  had  cultivated  the  land  as 
far  as  he  could  see  from  his  house  on 
the  hill. 

Round  the  house  he  had  planted  a 

99 


TWO-LEGS 

garden  with  the  fruit-trees  and  herbs 
which  he  had  a  use  for.  The  fields  lay 
in  long,  even  strips,  each  with  its 
own  sort  of  grass  or  corn.  The  whole 
was  fenced  in  and  Two-Legs  was 
hard  upon  any  who  destroyed  his 
work  or  stole  his  property. 

It  looked  as  though  he  were  the 
lord  of  the  earth.  No  one  dared  set 
himself  up  against  him.  His  herd  in- 
creased from  day  to  day  and  the  wild 
animals  fled  far  away  as  soon  as  they 
saw  a  sign  of  him  or  his.  In  the 
depths  of  the  forest,  however,  and 
under  cover  of  the  darkness  and 
whenever  they  felt  safe  from  him, 
they  talked  of  the  old  days  when 
they  themselves  were  the  masters,  of 
the  shame  that  it  was  that  he  should 
subjugate  them  so  and  of  their  hopes 
of  better  times. 

100 


TWO-LEGS  ENJOYS  LIFE 

"He  throws  stones  at  a  poor  bird 
that  picks  a  grain  of  corn  in  his 
field,"  said  the  sparrow. 

"Yesterday  he  drove  me  out  of  the 
hazel-hedge  round  his  garden,"  said 
the  squirrel. 

"He  shot  an  arrow  into  my  left 
wing  because  I  took  a  lamb,"  said 
the  eagle. 

"He  has  driven  me  right  out  of  the 
forest,"  said  the  wolf.  "He  told  me 
that  all  the  game  belonged  to  him 
and  that,  if  I  dared  touch  it,  he 
would  persecute  me  and  my  cubs  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth,  if  need  be." 

"Perhaps  he'll  take  it  into  his  head 
to-morrow  to  say  that  all  the  mead- 
ows are  his,"  cried  the  stag.  "And 
where  are  we  to  graze  then?" 

The  thistle,  the  poppy  and  the 
bluebell  pressed  close  against  the 
101 


TWO-LEGS 

hedge.  The  violet  hid  herself  in  the 
ditch.  And  the  stinging-nettle  stood 
gloomily  and  angrily  outside  Two- 
Legs'  garden-fence. 

"Are  we  any  better  oif  ?"  asked  the 
thistle.  "We  have  been  driven  from 
home  and  have  to  sit  here  against  the 
hedge  and  look  on  while  the  silly 
grass  spreads  all  over  the  field.  We 
are  at  his  mercy;  he  can  take  our 
lives  any  day  he  pleases." 

"He  has  planted  some  of  my  sisters 
in  his  garden,"  said  the  violet. 

"And  some  of  mine,"  said  the  pop- 
py. "But  that's  not  liberty." 

"Prick  him,  Thistle!"  said  the  tall 
oak. 

"I  did  and  he  struck  me  with  his 
stick,"  replied  the  thistle. 

"Sting  him,  Nettle!"  said  the  oak. 

"I  did,"  said  the  nettle,  "and  I  came 
off  no  better  than  the  thistle." 
102 


TWO-LEGS  ENJOYS  LIFE 

In  the  corn,  however,  a  glad  whis- 
per ran  from  one  end  of  the  field  to 
the  other: 

"It  is  we  ...  it  is  we  ...  it  is  we 
...  it  is  we  that  reign  in  the  land 
now.  .  .  .  We  are  good.  .  .  .  We 
are  useful.  .  .  .  You  others  are  no- 
thing but  weeds." 

"Hear  them,  the  cowardly  dogs!" 
said  the  thistle. 

"We  can  do  nothing,"  said  the  blue- 
bell. "But  why  don't  you  big  trees 
fall  down  on  him  and  crush  him  and 
his  brood?" 

"That's  a  ticklish  matter,  falling 
down,"  said  the  oak.  "But  have  we 
not  a  king  in  the  forest  to  protect 
us?  Where  is  the  lion?" 

"Yes,  the  lion.  .  .  .  Where  is  the 
lion?"  they  all  cried. 

But  the  lion  was  not  there  and  did 
not  come. 

103 


TWO-LEGS 

Two-Legs  sat  at  home  in  his  gar- 
den, under  a  big  apple-tree,  sur- 
rounded by  all  his  family. 

He  cast  his  eyes  over  his  fields,  on 
which  the  corn  waved,  and  up  into 
the  apple-tree,  which  hung  full  of 
delicious,  yellow  fruit.  One  of  his 
sons  had  just  come  back  from  the 
lake  with  a  couple  of  big  fish.  An- 
other was  hunting  in  the  forest:  now 
they  heard  his  call  and  he  stood  at 
the  edge  of  the  wood  with  a  fat  roe- 
buck over  his  shoulders. 

A  third  was  busy  making  a  plough : 
he  wanted  to  improve  upon  the  old 
one.  And  all  the  rest  were  working 
at  one  thing  or  another.  The  girls 
were  busy  in  the  kitchen  or  turning 
the  mill-wheel. 

"We  have  had  luck  on  our  side," 
said  Two-Legs  to  his  wife.  "Every- 

104 


TWO-LEGS  ENJOYS  LIFE 

thing  thrives  and  grows  under  our 
hands.  And  our  children  will  do  bet- 
ter than  we  and  their  children  better 
still.  ...  I  hardly  dare  picture  the 
might  and  glory  which  our  race  may 
yet  achieve." 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Two -Legs. 
"Things  are  going  well  with  us. 
HelD  me  to  remember  to  strew  a  lit- 
tle corn  for  the  sparrows,  when  the 
bad  time  comes." 

"I  sha'n't  forget,"  said  he.  "We 
have  such  plenty  now,  that  we  can 
afford  to  give  these  little  thieves  a 
helping  hand.  And  I  like  to  hear 
them  twittering  when  I  get  up  in  the 
morning." 


105 


IX 

THE   OLD   ANIMALS   TAKE    COUNSEL 

THE  complaints  of  the  wild  animals 
increased  daily. 

"One  no  longer  knows  what  one 
dare  do  and  what  not,"  said  the  mole. 
"Yesterday,  my  cousin  was  throwing 
up  earth,  as  our  family  have  done 
ever  since  they  existed.  At  that  mo- 
ment, he  was  caught  and  killed  by 
one  of  Two-Legs'  sons,  because  the 
mole-hill  appeared  in  the  middle  of 
one  of  his  flower-beds." 

"His  daughter  killed  my  wife,  be- 
cause she  thought  her  ugly,"  said  a 
young  spider.  "Not  that  my  wife 
was  nice  to  me.  She  wanted  to  eat 

106 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

me  immediately  after  the  wedding 
and  I  had  a  narrow  escape.  But, 
apart  from  that,  she  was  the  most 
inoffensive  person  under  the  sun  and 
really  never  hurt  a  soul.  Except  the 
flies,  of  course." 

"He  took  away  my  wife  and  plant- 
ed her  in  his  garden,"  said  the  hop- 
vine. 

"And  he  throws  me  out  if  I  show 
the  least,  tiny  green  shoot,"  said  the 
gout-weed. 

"He  shuts  us  up  in  hives,"  said  the 
bee. 

"He  hunts  us  by  clapping  his  hands 
together  and  hitting  us  with  cloths," 
said  the  moth. 

"He  locks  us  up  and  fattens  us  and 
eats  us,"  grunted  the  pig. 

"He  sets  traps  for  us  if  we  try  to 
get  a  morsel  of  food,"  said  the  mouse. 

107 


TWO-LEGS 

"He  is  the  master  of  us  all,"  said 
the  stag.  "We  have  no  one  to  com- 
plain to.  We  have  no  king.  The  lion 
is  no  longer  the  ruler  of  the  forest. 
He  kills  us  with  his  claws  when  he 
is  hungry,  but  he  makes  no  attempt 
to  defend  us." 

While  they  were  talking,  the  lioness 
came  slowly  up  and  stood  in  their 
midst.  They  sprang  up  in  alarm,  but 
she  lay  down  quietly  and  said: 

"Do  not  be  afraid  of  me.  I  sha'n't 
hurt  you.  I  have  hardly  eaten  a 
mouthful  this  last  week  for  grief. 
The  same  cares  oppress  me  as  your- 
selves. And  it  is  worse  for  me,  be- 
cause my  husband  ought  to  have  pro- 
tected us  against  these  strangers  and 
doesn't.  The  disgrace,  for  that  mat- 
ter, concerns  me  personally." 

"The  lion  must  help  us!  The  lion 

108 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

must  set  us  free!"  they  all  cried  to- 
gether. 

"The  lion  does  nothing,"  said  the 
lioness  sadly.  "He  lies  at  home  in  our 
lair,  staring  and  staring  before  him. 
But  now  listen  to  what  I  have  to 
say." 

They  all  gathered  round  and  lis- 
tened. 

"We  are  all  concerned,"  she  said. 
"Each  one  of  us,  without  exception. 
I  have  taken  in  all  that  I  have  heard 
and  seen  of  Two-Legs  and  I  know 
his  character  and  his  plans  as  though 
he  had  confided  them  to  me.  He 
wants  to  subdue  the  whole  earth.  He 
and  his  children  intend  to  reign  over 
us  all,  whether  we  submit  or  not." 

"That  is  true!"  cried  the  animals. 

"Yes,  that  is  true,"  continued  the 
lioness.  "Let  none  feel  safe!  The 

109 


TWO-LEGS 

most  powerful  animal  and  the  tallest 
tree:  if  he  have  not  laid  them  low  to- 
day, their  turn  will  come  to-morrow. 
The  lowest  vermin  and  the  sorriest 
weed:  they  know  not  on  what  day 
he  may  need  them  nor  when  they  are 
in  his  way;  and  then  their  last  hour 
has  struck." 

"Yes,  yes!"  they  cried. 

The  mighty  oak  waved  his  gnarled 
boughs  in  assent,  the  stag  sorrow- 
fully drooped  his  antlers,  the  worm 
whispered  his  "Yes!"  in  the  earth 
and  the  bees  shook  with  fear. 

"Yes,"  said  the  lioness.  "To  him  we 
are  either  useful  or  injurious.  If  he 
thinks  a  flower  pretty,  he  fences  her 
in;  if  her  scent  offends  his  nostrils, 
he  tramples  her  underfoot.  If  a  tree 
stands  where  he  can  sleep  in  its 
shade,  he  lets  it  grow.  If  it  stands 
no 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

in  his  way  or  if  he  has  a  use  for  its 
wood,  he  chops  it  down.  If  he  is  able 
to  use  an  animal,  he  catches  him  and 
makes  him  his  slave.  He  dresses  him- 
self in  his  skin,  eats  his  flesh,  lets  him 
do  his  work.  He  does  not  stop  when 
he  has  had  his  fill,  as  we  do.  Greedy 
as  ne  is,  he  catches  animals  and  gath- 
ers fruit  for  many  days,  so  that  he 
may  never  suffer  want." 

"That's  so,  that's  so!"  cried  the  ani- 
mals, in  chorus. 

"Wait  a  bit!"  continued  the  lioness. 
"There  is  more  to  come.  He  does  not 
hunt  fair,  like  ourselves.  He  does 
not  go  after  his  prey  on  his  own  legs. 
He  rides  at  it  on  the  back  of  the 
horse,  whom  he  has  compelled  to 
carry  him.  He  does  not  catch  it  with 
his  claws,  does  not  kill  it  with  his 
teeth :  he  has  a  curious  weapon,  which 
ill 


TWO-LEGS 

flies  through  the  air  and  brings  death 
to  whomsoever  it  strikes." 

"We  all  know  it!"  cried  the  stag. 

"It  has  whistled  past  my  ear!"  said 
the  wolf. 

"It  hit  my  wing!"  said  the  eagle. 

"He  does  not  drink  the  blood  as  we 
do,  does  not  eat  the  meat  as  we  do," 
continued  the  lioness.  "He  roasts  it 
at  the  fire;  he  always  has  fire  in  his 
hut.  He  has  done  violence  to  nature: 
we  knew  fire  only  when  the  lightning 
struck  an  old  tree  and  set  it  alight; 
he  strikes  two  stones  against  each 
other  till  the  sparks  come  or  rubs 
two  pieces  of  rotten  wood  till  they 
catch  flame." 

"True,  true!"  cried  the  animals. 
"He  has  subdued  fire." 

"He  does  not  pluck  the  fruits  in  the 
forest  when  they  are  ripe,"  said  the 
112 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

lioness.  ''He  cultivates  the  plants  for 
which  he  has  a  use  and  roots  out  the 
others.  Give  him  a  free  hand  and  he 
will  transform  the  whole  earth.  No 
herbs  will  be  let  grow  but  those  which 
he  can  employ.  No  animals  will  be 
let  live  but  those  which  serve  his  use 
or  pleasure.  If  we  want  to  remain 
alive,  we  must  become  his  servants." 

"Hear,  hear!"  cried  the  animals. 

The  lioness  paused  and  all  was  still. 
They  heard  Trust  bark  a  long  way 
off. 

"Listen  to  the  dog,"  said  the  lioness. 
"His  first  servant.  Now  he  helps  him 
watch  over  the  others." 

"The  dog  has  betrayed  us!  Let  us 
kill  the  dog!"  they  cried. 

The  lioness  raised  her  paw  and  si- 
lence prevailed  again.  Then  she  con- 
tinued : 

113 


TWO-LEGS 

"Do  you  remember  the  night  when 
we  met  here  in  this  same  meadow, 
when  the  new  animals  had  just  ar- 
rived? There  were  some  who  warned 
us:  they  were  the  horse  and  the  ox 
and  the  sheep;  the  goose  and  the 
•duck  agreed  with  them:  now  they 
are  all  his  subjects.  Their  presenti- 
ments did  not  deceive  them.  But  do 
you  not  remember  how  the  two  new 
animals  looked  when  they  lay  here 
asleep?  A  couple  of  poor,  naked 
wretches:  we  could  have  killed  them 
without  trouble,  had  we  wished." 

"We  could!  We  could!"  cried  the 
animals. 

"But  we  didn't!"  said  the  lioness. 
"And  now  they  are  the  lords  of  the 
forest.  Do  you  know  whence  their 
power  comes?  It  comes  from  the  ani- 
mals whom  they  have  subdued.  If  we 

114 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

could  take  those  animals  from  them, 
then  they  would  be  just  as  poor  and 
helpless  as  before.  Two-Legs'  power 
consists  in  this,  that  he  can  make 
others  work  for  him.  If,  therefore, 
you  take  my  advice,  you  will  try  to 
get  his  servants  away  from  him.  I 
propose  that  we  send  some  one  who 
will  endeavour  to  talk  them  into  their 
senses.  Surely,  we  have  only  to  ap- 
peal to  their  sense  of  honour  and  to 
remind  them  of  the  days  when  they 
wandered  at  liberty  in  the  forest! 
Who  will  undertake  the  mission?" 

"Do  you  go  yourself  I"  they  all 
cried. 

"No,"  said  the  lioness.  "I  had  bet- 
ter not.  It  would  not  be  wise.  There 
is  blood  between  their  race  and  mine. 
They  might  remember  this ;  and  then 
my  words  would  be  in  vain.  It  should 

115 


TWO-LEGS 

be  one  from  whom  they  have  never 
had  anything  to  fear." 

They  discussed  the  matter  for  some 
time  and  then  it  was  resolved  that 
the  fox  should  be  the  emissary.  He 
was  at  odds,  it  was  true,  from  the  old 
days,  with  the  goose  and  the  duck 
and  the  hen;  but  there  was  no  one 
better  at  hand. 

And  so  he  sneaked  off:  none  knew 
so  well  the  shortest  and  most  secret 
paths  in  the  forest.  He  promised  to 
bring  back  an  answer  as  quickly  as 
possible.  The  animals  lay  down  to 
rest  in  the  meadow  and  whispered 
together.  In  the  midst  of  the  circle 
lay  the  lioness  and  stared  silently  be- 
fore her  with  shame  and  wrath  in 
her  eyes. 

When  the  fox  reached  Two-Legs' 
house,  he  met  Trust,  who  was  going 

116 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

his  night  rounds  to  see  if  there  were 
any  foes  about. 

"Good-evening,  cousin,"  said  the 
fox,  slyly.  "Out  so  late?" 

"I  might  say  the  same  to  you,"  re- 
plied Trust.  "I  am  keeping  watch 
for  my  master.  You're  hardly  out  on 
so  lawful  an  errand." 

"I  have  no  master,  certainly,"  said 
the  fox.  "And  it's  not  so  long  since 
you  yourself  were  a  free  dog  in  the 
forest.  You  ought  to  become  so  again. 
Come  down  with  me  to  the  meadow. 
The  other  animals  are  gathered  there. 
They  will  forgive  you  for  entering 
Two-Legs'  service  and  look  upon 
you  as  the  good  dog  that  you  were,  if 
you  will  open  the  door  so  that  the 
captive  animals  may  escape." 

"There  are  no  captive  animals 
here,"  said  the  dog.  "We  are  all  well 

117 


TWO-LEGS 

off  and  we  wish  for  no  change.  If 
I  am  Two-Legs'  servant,  I  am  also 
his  friend.  So  run  away  back  as  quick 
as  you  can  to  those  who  sent  you." 

With  that,  the  dog  turned  his  back 
on  the  fox  and  went  in  through  the 
little  hole  that  was  left  in  the  fence 
for  his  use.  But  the  fox  stood  wait- 
ing a  while,  to  see  if  none  of  the 
others  appeared.  And  it  was  not 
long  before  a  fine  gosling  stuck  her 
head  through  the  hole. 

"Good-evening,  little  missie!"  said 
the  fox.  "Please  come  a  little  closer." 

"I  dare  not,"  said  the  gosling.  "I 
am  not  allowed  out  at  night.  And  I 
should  so  awfully  like  to  get  away. 
I  am  so  frightened  of  Two-Legs. 
He  roasted  my  mother  the  other  day 
and  ate  her." 

"Shocking!"     exclaimed    the    fox. 

118 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

"You  mustn't  stay  a  moment  longer 
in  this  murderer's  den.  Come  out  to 
me  and  I  will  take  you  to  a  place 
where  you  will  have  nothing  to  fear." 

"If  only  I  dared  trust  you!"  said 
the  gosling.  "But  I  have  ten  sisters. 
I  can't  leave  them  in  the  lurch." 

"I  don't  think  you  had  better  wake 
them  to-night,"  said  the  fox.  "Young 
ladies  are  so  talkative  and,  if  the  dog 
or  Two-Legs  discovered  your  flight, 
it  would  be  all  up  with  us.  You  would 
be  roasted  forthwith  and  I  should 
come  in  for  a  certain  unpleasantness 
too:  that  goes  without  saying." 

"That  is  true,"  said  the  gosling. 
"But  will  you  promise  me  to  fetch 
my  sisters  another  time?" 

"I  give  you  my  word  that,  from  to- 
day, I  will  come  every  night  and 
fetch  one  of  the  young  ladies,  until 

119 


TWO-LEGS 

they  are  all  rescued,"  said  the  fox. 
"That  is,  as  far  as  lies  in  my  power. 
There  may  be  obstacles." 

"How  kind  you  are!"  whispered  the 
gosling.  "And  I  who  thought  that 
the  wild  animals  were  such  terrible 
monsters!  That's  what  I  have  always 
been  told.  They  said  I  must  be  par- 
ticularly careful  not  to  go  into  the 
forest,  lest  the  worst  of  evils  should 
befall  me." 

"Sheer  calumny!"  said  the  fox. 
"All  the  animals  in  the  forest  are 
angels.  I  have  never  once  heard  of 
any  one  being  roasted  there.  But 
come  now,  before  we  are  perceived." 

"I'm  coming!"  said  the  gosling. 

She  waddled  through  the  hole  and, 
that  very  instant,  felt  the  fox's  teeth 
in  her  throat.  She  was  just  able  to 
give  a  scream  and  then  she  was  done 

120 


THE  OLD  ANIMALS  TAKE  COUNSEL 

for.  But,  the  next  moment,  Trust 
was  there.  The  fox  let  go  the  gosling 
and  struck  out  with  his  teeth  as  best 
he  could.  But  he  was  the  weaker  and 
the  dog  gave  no  quarter.  Not  until 
the  fox  lay  dead  on  the  ground 
did  Trust  go  back  through  his  hole 
again. 

Meanwhile,  the  animals  were  lying 
in  the  meadow  and  waiting. 

"The  fox  has  played  us  false,"  said 
the  stag. 

"Of  course,  he  has  been  caught  and 
is  entering  Two-Legs'  service  like 
the  rest,"  said  the  nightingale. 

But,  at  daybreak,  the  sparrow 
came  flying  up,  breathlessly. 

"The  fox  is  dead!"  she  said.  "He 
is  lying  on  the  hill  outside  Two-Legs' 
house.  I  saw  him  myself.  There's  a 
dead  goose  lying  beside  him." 
121 


TWO-LEGS 

Then  the  lioness  rose  and  all  the 
other  animals  with  her. 

"The  fox  went  on  his  own  busi- 
ness," she  said.  "He  fell  in  his  own 
hunting.  We  can  trust  nobody  now." 

Then,  with  bowed  head,  she  went 
slowly  home. 


122 


X 

THE     LION 

IT  was  one  night,  some  days  after 
the  animals  had  held  their  meeting 
in  the  meadow. 

The  lion  lay  in  his  lair,  as  was  his 
custom,  and  stared  with  his  yellow 
eyes.  His  spouse  was  sleeping  or  pre- 
tending to  sleep.  At  every  moment, 
she  heaved  a  deep  sigh.  All  was  still 
in  the  forest. 

The  lion  knew  well  what  his  con- 
sort's sighing  meant.  He  knew  what 
the  animals  had  talked  of  that  day 
and  all  the  other  days  in  the  forest. 
Not  one  of  their  complaints  was  un- 
known to  him;  not  one  of  the  taunts 
123 


TWO-LEGS 

uttered  against  him  had  escaped  his 
ears.  Not  for  a  moment  had  he  been 
in  doubt  as  to  the  feeling  in  the  for- 
est towards  the  king  of  beasts. 

Nor  had  he  forgotten  which  of  the 
animals  had  spoken  of  him  most 
slightingly.  He  had  imprinted  the 
names  of  more  than  one  on  his  mem- 
ory and  he  would  know  how  to  be 
even  with  them  when  the  time  came 
and  order  was  restored  in  the  forest. 
Every  day,  he  had  to  bear  his  con- 
sort's gibes,  but  he  no  longer  heeded 
them.  She  would  have  to  beg  his  par- 
don and  yield  him  her  love  and  admi- 
ration once  again.  His  children  would 
honour  him,  as  they  had  honoured 
him  before  and  even  more.  He 
would  be  remembered  in  the  history 
of  the  forest  as  the  monarch  in  whose 
reign  the  kingdom  had  incurred  a 

124 


THE  LION 

great  danger  and  misfortune,  which 
he  had  finally  overcome. 

The  lion  rose  and  went  slowly 
through  the  forest. 

"The  king  of  beasts  is  out  hunt- 
ing," said  the  hedgehog,  creeping  un- 
der the  bushes. 

"See  how  thin  he  is,"  said  the  bat. 
"His  skin  is  hanging  loose  on  his 
bones." 

"It  is  many  nights  since  he  went 
hunting,"  said  the  owl.  "His  eyes 
are  glaring  with  hunger." 

But  the  king  of  the  forest  was  not 
thinking  of  hunting.  He  went,  as 
though  in  a  dream,  in  the  direction 
of  Two-Legs'  house.  A  deer  darted 
across  his  path  and  he  did  not  see 
her.  Slowly  he  went  on  until  he  came 
to  the  open  space  where  Two-Legs' 
house  stood  on  the  hill. 

125 


TWO-LEGS 

He  went  straight  up  to  it,  leapt 
quickly  over  the  hedge  and  lay  down 
in  some  bushes  that  grew  at  the  door. 
He  there  lay  concealed.  No  one 
could  see  him:  only  his  yellow  eyes 
gleamed  through  the  leaves.  And 
one  bound  would  bring  him  to  the 
door. 

Two  -  Legs  slept  restlessly  that 
night. 

He  tossed  about  on  his  bed  of  skins 
and,  when  at  last  he  fell  asleep,  Trust 
began  to  bark  so  loudly  that  he  had 
to  get  up  and  see  what  was  hap- 
pening. He  had  closed  up  the  hole 
through  which  Trust  used  to  get  out, 
because  the  goose  had  lately  escaped 
that  way  and  fallen  a  prey  to  the 
fox. 

"What  is  it,  Trust?"  he  asked. 

The  dog  kept  on  barking  and  leapt 

126 


THE  LION 

up  against  him.  Two-Legs  opened  a 
little  shutter  and  looked  out  and  lis- 
tened. But  there  was  nothing  to  see. 
Then  he  told  the  dog  to  lie  down  and 
went  back  again  to  bed.  But  now  he 
heard  the  horse  kicking  in  the  stable 
and  the  ox  began  to  low  and  the  poul- 
try to  cackle.  There  was  no  hearing  a 
word  for  the  noise.  He  had  to  go  out 
again  and  found  all  the  animals  shak- 
ing, as  though  greatly  frightened. 
The  horse  stood  in  a  violent  sweat  and 
the  hens  and  ducks  and  geese  fluttered 
restlessly  round  in  their  roost. 

"What  can  it  be?"  he  said. 

He  opened  the  door  and  stepped 
out  into  the  night,  unarmed  and 
naked,  as  he  had  risen  from  his  bed. 
At  that  moment,  there  was  a  rustling 
in  the  bushes.  The  lion  sprang  for- 
wards, but  Two-Legs  just  had  time 

127 


TWO-LEGS 

to  enter  the  house  and  bolt  the  door 
behind  him. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  in  great 
alarm  and  did  not  know  what  to  do. 

Through  a  little  hole  in  the  door, 
he  saw  the  lion  lying  outside  in  the 
bushes,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the 
door,  ready  to  leap.  The  yellow  eyes 
glittered  with  rage.  Two-Legs  un- 
derstood that  the  fight  was  now 
to  come  that  had  been  so  long  de- 
layed. 

He  thought  first  of  waking  his  sons, 
slipping  out  through  the  other  door 
and  attacking  the  lion  in  the  rear. 
But  they  slept  in  different  parts  of 
the  house  and  the  day  was  already 
breaking  in  the  east  and,  while  he  was 
gone  to  fetch  them,  one  of  the  family 
might  easily  go  out  and  fall  a  prey 
to  the  king  of  the  forest. 

128 


THE  LION 

While  he  stood  and  reflected,  his 
fear  left  him. 

He  considered  that  he  was  man 
enough  to  kill  his  foe  unaided.  He 
silently  took  the  best  two  of  his 
spears,  carefully  felt  their  edges, 
drew  a  deep  breath  and  then  opened 
the  door. 

The  lion  was  not  there. 

Two-Legs  looked  from  one  side  to. 
the  other  and  could  not  discover  him. 
But  he  was  an  old  and  experienced 
hunter  and  did  not  doubt  but  that 
the  lion  was  lurking  in  ambush.  So 
he  stood  quietly  in  the  doorway,  with 
every  muscle  taut,  ready  for  the  fight 
that  must  come. 

Then  he  heard  a  soft  rustling  in  the 
bushes  and,  at  that  moment,  saw  the 
animal's  eyes  there  among  the  leaves. 
He  knew  that  there  was  no  time 

129 


TWO-LEGS 

to  lose :  if  the  lion  sprang  first,  it  was 
too  late. 

He  flung  one  of  his  spears  and 
struck  the  lion  in  the  eye.  The  lion 
uttered  a  roar  of  rage  and  then  the 
other  spear  pierced  his  heart. 

All  the  inmates  of  the  house  were 
now  out  of  bed  and  came  running  up. 

There  lay  the  dead  lion,  a  great  and 
splendid  sight.  Trust  barked  at  him 
and  wanted  to  bite  him,  but  Two- 
Legs  drove  him  away: 

"After  all,"  he  said,  "he  was  the 
king  of  the  forest.  But  now  let  it  be 
declared  all  over  the  earth  that  he  is 
dead  and  that  the  realm  is  mine." 

Then  they  stripped  the  lion's  hide 
and  hung  it  on  a  tall  pole,  which  they 
set  up  in  the  middle  of  the  field,  so 
that  it  could  be  seen  from  far  and 
wide. 

130 


THE  LION 

"The  lion  is  slain!"  cried  the  spar- 
row from  door  to  door.  "Two-Legs 
has  murdered  the  king  of  the  forest. 
His  skin  is  hanging  on  a  pole  out- 
side the  house:  I  saw  it  myself." 

Then  all  crowded  up  and  saw  it. 
From  the  edge  of  the  forest,  full  of 
fear  they  peeped  at  Two-Legs'  house 
and  the  birds  stared  down  from  the 
sky. 

"Now  all  is  over,"  said  the  stag. 

And  so  it  was. 

But,  in  the  course  of  that  day,  the 
orang-outang  came  to  Two-Legs, 
who  was  sitting  outside  his  house. 

"Good-day,  cousin,"  said  the  orang- 
outang. 

Two-Legs  looked  at  him,  without 
answering. 

"Ah,  you  may  have  heard,"  said 
the  orang-outang,  "that  I  have  spo- 

131 


TWO-LEGS 

ken  ill  of  you.  I  will  not  deny  that 
I  have  been  a  little  careless  in  my 
talk.  But  you  yourself  know,  when 
one  meets  with  poor  relations,  one  is 
afraid  of  hangers-on.  One  has  child- 
ren of  one's  own  and  it  is  not  easy  to 
make  both  ends  meet  in  these  hard 
times.  Besides,  you  once  caught  me  a 
blow  with  your  stick;  so  we  can  cry 
quits." 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  Two- 
Legs.  "I  have  neither  time  nor  in- 
clination to  listen  to  your  drivel." 

"Now  don't  be  hasty,  cousin,"  said 
the  orang-outang  and  sat  down  be- 
side him.  "I  acknowledge  your  suc- 
cess. You  have  been  lucky.  It  does 
not  enter  my  head  to  deny  your  abil- 
ity. You  have  managed  things  splen- 
didly. That  little  business  with  the 
horse  was  really  very  smartly  done. 

132 


THE  LION 

And,  now  that  you  have  outwitted 
the  lion  .  .  ." 

"What  do  you  want,  you  ill-omened 
brute?"  said  Two-Legs. 

"I  want  to  join  forces  with  you, 
cousin,"  said  the  orang-outang.  "We 
two  as  partners  ought  to  conquer  the 
world." 

"Are  you  mad?"  said  Two-Legs. 
"What  should  I  do  with  such  a  ridicu- 
lous, stupid  beast  as  you?  You're  no 
more  use  to  me  than  a  pigeon.  Away 
with  you!  Or  else  I'll  give  you  a 
thrashing  which  you  won't  forget  in 
a  hurry." 

The  orang-outang  retreated  a  few 
paces,  but  did  not  give  up  the  game: 

"You  should  think  it  over,  all  the 
same,  cousin,"  he  said.  "However 
clever  you  may  be,  I  can  be  of  use 
to  you  still.  I  should  be  a  good  inter- 

133 


TWO-LEGS 

mediary  between  you  and  the  ani- 
mals. I  can  do  things  that  you  can't; 
and  what  I  can't  do  I  can  easily 
learn.  Up  in  the  apple-tree  where  I 
sat,  I  have  watched  you  and  stud- 
ied the  way  you  went  about  your 
field;  and  I  ha^e  already  picked  up 
many  of  your  tricks.  You  must  know 
that  .  .  ." 

Two-Legs  stood  up  and  caught  the 
orang-outang  by  the  arm: 

"Come  outside!"  he  shouted  into  the 
house.  "I  want  to  show  you  some- 
thing!" 

They  all  came  out  and  stared  at  the 
ape. 

"This  fellow  wants  to  go  into  part- 
nership with  me,"  said  Two-Legs. 
"He's  not  reasonable.  He  says  he  has 
already  learnt  my  tricks.  Let's  put 
him  in  a  cage;  then  we  can  amuse 

134 


THE  LION 

ourselves  with  his  tricks,  when  it's 
raining." 

The  orang-outang  protested,  but  to 
no  purpose.  Two-Legs  held  him  tight 
and  soon  they  had  built  a  cage  and 
put  him  into  it. 

"There's  none  like  one's  own  people 
for  meanness!"  said  the  orang-ou- 
tang, as  he  sat  on  the  floor  of  his  cagep 
catching  his  fleas. 


135 


XI 

MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

IT  was  many,  many  years  after. 

And  it  was  not  in  the  forest  in  the 
warm  lands,  where  the  sun  shines 
stronger  than  here  and  the  rain  falls 
closer  and  all  animals  and  all  plants 
thrive  better,  because  the  winter  does 
not  stunt  their  growth. 

It  was  in  a  large  village  out  in  Jut- 
land. 

It  was  fair-time  and  the  village  was 
full  of  people  and  cattle.  On  every 
side  stood  booths  with  wooden  shoes 
and  tin  goods,  cakes  and  toys  and  all 
sorts  of  wares.  There  were  refresh- 
ment-tents and  a  dancing-hall.  There 

136 


MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

was  a  great  peep-show,  there  were 
two  merry-go-rounds,  there  was  a 
place  where  the  fattest  lady  in  the 
world  was  exhibited.  In  another 
place,  for  twopence,  you  could  see 
a  tiny  little  dwarf.  Then  there  were 
white  mice  and  performing  fleas, 
numbers  of  barrel-organs,  all  play- 
ing at  one  time,  so  that  you  could 
hardly  hear  yourself  speak  for  the 
din,  and  drunken  peasants  and  boys 
playing  practical  jokes. 

But  the  most  remarkable  thing  of 
all  was  hidden  in  a  large  tent  in  the 
middle  of  the  market-place.  This  also 
could  be  seen  for  twopence;  and,  if 
you  wished  to  know  what  it  was,  you 
had  only  to  listen  to  the  man  who 
stood  outside  and  shouted  in  his 
hoarse  voice : 

"Walk  up,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 

137 


TWO-LEGS 

walk  up!  Only  twopence  for  grown- 
ups, children  half-price !  Here's  some- 
thing that's  never  been  exhibited  in 
this  village  before,  but  that's  ap- 
peared before  all  the  kings  and  royal 
families  in  the  world.  It's  a  king  him- 
self that  I  have  the  honour  of  intro- 
ducing to  you:  the  king  of  beasts, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  terrible 
lion!  He  lives  in  darkest  Africa  and 
is  so  powerful  that  he  can  kill  an  ox 
with  one  blow  of  his  paw.  He  has 
two  lambs  for  his  breakfast  every 
morning.  If  he  were  to  escape  from 
his  cage,  he  would  do  away  with  you 
all  in  less  than  no  time.  But  you  need 
have  no  fear,  ladies  and  gentlemen! 
The  lion  is  in  his  cage  behind  thick 
iron  bars.  There  he  stands  and  glares 
in  his  bloodthirsty  way,  at  twopence 
for  grown-ups,  children  half-price! 

138 


MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

Walk  up,  ladies  and  gentlemen! 
Hurry  up,  before  it's  too  late!  Never 
again,  in  all  your  lives,  will  you  see 
half  so  fine  a  sight  at  so  cheap  a 
price!" 

He  shouted  like  this  all  the  time.  A 
crowd  of  people  stood  outside  the  tent 
staring.  Many  went  in.  When  they 
came  out,  they  told  the  bystanders 
about  the  lion  inside.  Then  more  went 
in  and  so  it  continued  all  day  long. 

The  lion's  cage  stood  at  the  back  of 
the  tent. 

It  was  a  low  and  dirty  cage.  On  the 
floor  lay  some  filthy  straw  and  a  few 
bones.  The  side  turned  to  the  spec- 
tators consisted  of  thick,  rusty  iron 
bars.  In  the  furthermost  corner  lay 
the  lion,  with  his  head  resting  on  his 
paws.  His  yellow  eyes  stared  with  a 
dull  expression  at  the  public.  There 
139 


TWO-LEGS 

was  straw  in  his  tangled  mane;  and 
he  was  terribly  thin.  Now  and  again, 
he  gave  a  nasty  hollow  cough. 

The  man  stood,  with  a  long  stick 
in  his  hand,  talking  and  explaining. 
The  visitors  to  the  fair  stared  round- 
eyed  at  the  great  beast  that  lay  there 
so  quietly.  Sick  and  feeble  as  he  was, 
they  could  see,  nevertheless,  that  he 
was  the  lion,  the  king  of  beasts,  and 
they  felt  cold  in  their  backs  at  the 
thought  that  he  might  break  loose. 
But,  when  he  did  not  make  a  single 
movement,  one  of  the  spectators  said, 
at  last: 

"I  believe  he's  dead!" 

Then  the  showman  pushed  his  long 
stick  through  the  bars  and  poked  the 
lion  with  it.  The  lion  slowly  turned 
his  head  and  looked  at  him,  but  gave 
no  further  sign  of  life.  Then  the  man 

140 


MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

poked  him  again  and  again  and,  at 
last,  the  lion  sprang  up  and  gave 
such  a  roar  that  the  tent  shook  with 
it  and  the  people  fell  back  in  affright. 

"He  ate  his  former  owner,"  said  the 
man.  "I  bought  him  of  the  widow. 
He  is  terribly  fierce  and  intractable. 
He's  dreaming  of  his  native  land, 
you  see,  where  he  used  to  hunt  in  the 
wild  forest  and  all  the  animals  hon- 
oured and  feared  him.  But  now  you 
must  go,  please,  so  that  others  can 
come  and  see  the  most  extraordinary 
sight  ever  exhibited  in  this  village. 
Walk  up,  ladies  and  gentlemen !  Only 
twopence  each!  The  king  of  the  for- 
est, the  terrible  lion!" 

And  so  it  went  on  until  late  that 

evening.  Not  until  the  market-place 

was  empty  and  there  were  no  visitors 

left  to  listen  to  him  did  the  man  shut 

141 


TWO-LEGS 

up  the  tent,  after  counting  the  day's 
takings. 

"This  has  been  a  bad  day,"  he  said 
and  gave  an  angry  look  at  the  lion. 
"You  haven't  really  earned  your  sup- 
per!" 

He  flung  a  small  piece  of  half- 
rotten  meat  into  the  cage.  Then  he 
shut  the  door  and  locked  it  and  went 
to  the  inn,  where  he  sat  and  drank 
and  caroused  till  the  early  morning. 

The  lion  did  not  touch  the  putrid 
meat.  With  his  head  on  his  paws,  he 
lay  staring  at  a  little  train-oil  lamp 
that  hung  in  the  tent  and  flickered 
feebly.  Suddenly,  he  heard  a  sound 
and  raised  his  head  and  looked  about 
him. 

"Can't  I  have  peace  even  at  night?" 
he  said. 

"It's  only  I,"  replied  a  squeaky  lit- 

142 


MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

tie  voice.  "I  have  been  locked  in  by 
accident.  I  want  to  get  out!  I  want 
to  get  out!  My  mistress  is  dying  of 
fright  for  me." 

It  was  a  tiny  little  dog,  with  a  collar 
and  bells  round  his  neck  and  an  em- 
broidered rug  on  his  back.  He  tripped 
to  and  fro,  whined  and  cried  and 
scratched  at  the  door,  but  no  one 
heard  him.  All  was  silent  in  the  mar- 
ket-place outside. 

"Well,  I  never!"  said  the  lion. 
"You're  the  dog;  I  can  see  that. 
Gracious  me,  what  a  sight  they've 
made  of  you!" 

"I  want  to  get  out!  I  want  to  get 
out!"  whined  the  dog. 

The  lion  had  laid  his  head  on  his 
paws  again  and  looked  at  the  dog. 

"What's  the  use  of  whimpering  like 
that?"  he  asked.  "No  one's  hurting 

143 


TWO-LEGS 

you.  I  couldn't  eat  you  if  I  wanted 
to.  The  iron  bars  are  strong,  believe 
me.  I  used  to  shake  them  at  first.  I 
have  to  travel  in  my  cage  from  place 
to  place  and  let  people  look  at  me  for 
money,  submit  to  their  scorn  and  teas- 
ing and  roar  when  I  am  told  to,  so 
that  they  may  shudder,  while  feeling 
quite  safe  from  my  teeth." 

"Let  me  out!"  cried  the  dog. 

"I  can't,"  replied  the  lion.  "But  I 
am  not  so  contemptible  as  you.  I  am 
here  against  my  will,  caught  in  a 
trap.  You  voluntarily  entered  Two- 
Legs'  service,  betrayed  your  fellows 
and  helped  him  against  them." 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  referring 
to,"  said  the  dog.  "I  know  no  one 
called  Two-Legs.  I  am  in  service 
with  human  beings.  My  mistress  is 
a  great  baroness  and  she  will  die  of 

144 


MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

fright  if  I  don't  come  home  to  her 
soon." 

"Just  so,"  said  the  lion.  "Human 
beings,  that's  what  Two-Legs'  con- 
founded descendants  call  themselves. 
They  have  subdued  the  whole  earth. 
There  is  hardly  a  place  left  where  an 
honest  lion  can  go  hunting  in  royal 
style.  I  know  the  whole  story:  it  has 
been  handed  down  in  my  house  from 
father  to  son.  I  heard  it  all,  the  night 
before  I  was  captured,  in  the  desert 
to  which  the  men  had  driven  us:  how 
Two-Legs  and  his  wife  came  naked 
and  unarmed  to  the  forest;  how  my 
ancestor  protected  them;  how  they 
gradually  outwitted  all  the  animals: 
you  alone  entered  their  service  of  your 
own  free  will.  The  others  they  caught 
and  tamed  and  dulled  their  senses 
until  they  no  longer  knew  how  to  lead 

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TWO-LEGS 

the  lives  of  free  animals  and  resigned 
themselves  to  slavery.  Finally,  Two- 
Legs  killed  my  ancestor  with  his 
spear:  yes,  yes,  I  know  the  whole 
shameful  story." 

"I  don't,"  said  the  dog.  "And  I 
don't  mind  if  I  never  know  it.  I  only 
know  that  I  have  a  cosy  little  basket 
at  home  with  my  mistress  and  that 
she  pets  and  kisses  me  and  gives  me 
the  loveliest  food.  I  want  to  get  out! 
I  want  to  go  home!" 

The  lion  made  no  reply,  but  thought 
to  himself: 

"When  I  lie  here  in  my  cage,  where 
I  shall  soon  die  of  sorrow  and  cough- 
ing, it  is  a  comfort  to  me  to  see  how 
wretched  Two  -  Legs'  descendants 
have  grown.  For  he  was  lithe  and 
slender  and  fair  to  look  upon :  he  was 
an  animal!  But  these  people  here! 

146 


MANY  YEARS  AFTER 

One  can  hardly  see  a  morsel  of  their 
bodies,  they  are  so  wrapped  up.  Two- 
Legs  could  bound  through  the  forest 
and  climb  trees :  these  people  here  can 
scarcely  stir  hand  or  foot.  He  was  a 
fighter:  and  it's  really  amusing  to 
watch  the  terror  in  these  fellows'  eyes 
when  I  get  up  and  move  to  the  bars 
or  when  I  roar.  They  shake  like 
aspen-leaves,  though  they  know  that 
I  am  only  a  wretched  prisoner." 

"I  want  to  get  out,  I  want  to  go 
home!"  whined  the  dog. 

The  lion  rose  and  went  to  the  bars 
of  his  cage.  He  lashed  his  lean  flanks 
with  his  tail  and  opened  his  jaws  so 
that  his  terrible  teeth  gleamed.  The 
little  dog  trembled  with  fear  before 
his  yellow  eyes. 

"And  you!"  said  the  lion.  "Ha,  ha, 
ha!  It's  better  to  be  a  captive  lion  in 

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TWO-LEGS 

a  cage  than  a  miserable  little  lap-dog, 
with  bells  and  a  rug!" 

He  gave  such  a  roar  that  all  the  peo- 
ple in  the  village  started  up  in  their 
beds.  Then  he  lay  down  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  cage,  turned  on  one  side 
and  slept. 

The  little  dog  shivered  and  whined 
until  some  one  came  and  let  him  out. 


THE  END 


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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


00 


A     000  028  725     0 


